


If By Chance

by PurpleFluff



Category: Naruto
Genre: cannon-divergent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 27
Words: 93,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26702359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleFluff/pseuds/PurpleFluff
Summary: What could have happened had Sakumo Hatake not gone on that fateful mission? How much can one man's death - or life - affect the future?
Comments: 24
Kudos: 86





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I always thought Sakumo got a raw deal and eventually this "what if" idea began kicking around in my head. Even though this story will be cannon-divergent, if you're not familiar with Kakashi's backstory (especially concerning his father), I highly recommend checking out the relevant anime/manga as there could be spoilers.
> 
> There are a *lot* of characters who show up but don't necessarily have a major role in this story or who are only present in passing. I've only tagged the more major characters rather than everyone who may only show up for a single scene in the entire thing. Rest assured that Sakumo does NOT die but there are other deaths, hence the warning for it.
> 
> This story is also posted on FFN. The first 22 chapters are finished and posted already. For subsequent chapters, I'm currently updating about every two weeks, give or take. 
> 
> Obligatory I don't own Naruto. :)

The day was cloudy and grey, threatening rain. Possibly snow if the sharp bite to the air was any indication. A cold, bitter wind blew fallen leaves across the ground of the Hidden Leaf cemetery. Black-clad shinobi were lined up, paying their respects to one of their fallen comrades. There were fewer than there would normally be for such an event. Currently many of the Hidden Leaf’s shinobi were away from the Village, fighting in the War.

Sakumo Hatake tuned out the words being spoken. Words were meaningless. Sayomi was dead, leaving him a widower to raise their four-month old son by himself. As the wind picked up again, he pulled the blanket more securely around the tiny bundle he held. He tugged the hat that had started to work its way off back down to cover the wispy silver hair once again. Kakashi’s eyes were squeezed tight against the cold wind and his face scrunched up as he fussed. He could sense the tension and unhappiness around him but not understand why.

Sakumo snuggled the infant closer and bounced him a bit to calm him. Focusing on the baby helped keep his own immeasurable pain and grief at bay. Kakashi gave him a reason to get out of bed in the mornings, to eat, to do anything anymore, really. The thought of raising the boy by himself was a daunting one. He had been an involved parent since the day his son was born. But Sayomi had been by his side. What did he know about raising a baby? How could he possibly hope to nurture this tiny creature all by himself? But he had to. Kakashi had nobody else.

Like him, Sayomi had been a jonin. They had both understood the risks that were a part of being a shinobi. Death was a part of life; it was a risk they took every time they went out on a mission, no matter how seemingly simple. It was always in the back of their minds while courting and when they had married and when they had made the decision to have children. But for her to die on her first mission since returning to active duty after maternity leave was almost too cruel to bear. She had been so vibrant, so alive; with her cascade of thick brown hair that framed her face and heavy lidded eyes that made it seem as if she was half asleep and a contagious laugh. Then she was suddenly just gone. And his life was suddenly dark and empty.

The voice had stopped speaking. Sakumo forced himself back to the present. His heart may have been ripped from his chest but he was a shinobi; he would keep his pain hidden from view to suffer in silence. He would grieve when he was alone, not in front of others. A flash of anger and resentment welled up as he remembered all the lessons that were drilled into every shinobi about suppressing their feelings. If you didn’t allow yourself to feel, the loss of your friends and family wouldn’t hurt so much, it was argued. It was a lie. A bitter, viscous, cruel lie.

The assembled men and women began drifting away from the gravesite, some with murmured words of sympathy and support. He nodded woodenly at them, not really hearing what was being said. They meant well. But words would not heal the hole left in his heart from Sayomi’s death. Words could not bring her back.

He remained beside the freshly covered grave and newly carved headstone after everyone else had gone. The marker was simple, nothing more than the symbol of the Leaf Village and her name. Nothing about everything that had made her who she was, nothing about the family she left behind. It was the same for every marker that sat in their neat rows. He crouched down. Shifting Kakashi carefully to one arm, he ran the fingers of his free hand over her name.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” he murmured. “If either of us had to die, it should have been me.” He sighed heavily. “I miss you so much already.” He shifted his hold on the now squirming bundle in his arms. “I’ll protect our son,” he promised. “No matter what, I’ll keep Kakashi safe.”

He shifted his gaze from the headstone to his infant son. He ran one finger gently down the baby’s smooth cheek and was rewarded with a toothless drooly smile and a soft gurgle. Using a corner of the blanket, he wiped away the drool from the corner of Kakashi’s mouth. Kakashi… not the most common name for a child. The name had been Sayomi’s idea. He recalled the conversation with the faintest smile touching his lips.

_“I found out what we’re having today. Do you want to know?” Sayomi had asked, her brown eyes sparkling with mischief._

_“I was assuming it was a baby. Though I wouldn’t say no to a puppy.”_

_Sayomi rolled her eyes at him, sticking out her tongue. “Fine, be that way!”_

_Sakumo had laughed. “Okay, tell me.”_

_“You’re sure?”_

_He nodded. “Yeah. You wanted to start decorating the nursery and thinking of a name. You were the one who didn’t want to stick with gender neutral if I recall.”_

_“Because that’s no fun!” Sayomi smiled. “It’s a boy,” she said, placing one hand over her swelling abdomen._

_Sakumo smiled, resting his hand atop hers. “A boy, huh.” He hadn’t given much thought to the baby’s gender either way. A healthy baby was all he hoped for. He knew Sayomi had wanted their first child to be a boy for reasons known only to her. He was pleased she was getting her wish._

_“And I already have the perfect name all picked out!”_

_He raised one silver eyebrow at that. “On the way back from your appointment? That was fast.”_

_She shrugged. “I thought of it on the way back home,” she admitted. “But it’s perfect!”_

_“What is it?”_

_“Kakashi!”_

_Sakumo blinked. “Kakashi?” he said slowly._

_Sayomi nodded. “Yeah.” At his expression, her face fell. “You don’t like it.”_

_“I didn’t say that. But… ‘scarecrow’? That’s…_ different _… I suppose…”_

_“Well I thought it would fit in with the rest of his family’s names quite nicely.”_

_Sakumo had to admit his wife had a point. The male names in his family all seemed to revolve around their surname. Hatake – field. He’d never understood the appeal himself. One thing was certain - ‘Kakashi’ would fit right in with the theme._ I suppose he can always try to break the cycle with his own kids someday, _Sakumo had mused._

_“If you love it that much…” he relented._

_“But you don’t like it. We agreed that we’d do this together, Sakumo. I don’t want you to be unhappy with his name.”_

_He gathered his wife in his arms, running his fingers through her long brown hair. “I’m not unhappy with it. I’ll admit it’s a bit unusual and that’s not necessarily a_ bad _thing. Besides, I don’t know a thing about naming a child. Kakashi is fine.”_

_“You would tell me if you like something else better, right?”_

_“Of course.”_

_“I mean, we still have a few months left before we need to decide, don’t we?”_

_“If we think of something we like better before he’s born, we can change it. Until then, Kakashi it is,” Sakumo had said, halting Sayomi’s uncertain thoughts. He had meant what he said, he didn’t know anything about naming a child and hadn’t really put any thought into a name for his unborn child yet. He didn’t dislike Sayomi’s choice, though he suspected it would grow on him._

_As the last few months of Sayomi’s pregnancy progressed, he had found himself thinking of the baby as ‘Kakashi’ as well. By the time he was born, the name was firmly entrenched in both his parents’ minds. There had been no need of further discussion; they understood they had reached an unspoken agreement on the matter._

The wind had begun to pick up again with greater intensity, sending leaves and small debris flying and causing his pony-tail to whip about. A quick glance upwards showed the clouds had darkened and spread across the sky. The weather was about to take a turn for the worse. Rain and snow didn’t bother him, but Kakashi was too young to be out in the cold and wet for any length of time. It was time to go home. Sayomi would never forgive him if Kakashi caught cold from being kept outside during a storm. She wouldn’t thank him for remaining here by her grave at the expense of their child’s health.

His knees ached from crouching down for so long in the cold. Kakashi was fussing once again. The infant didn’t like the cold wind that kept blowing across his face, stealing his breath and frightening him. He was also picking up on his father’s unhappiness and tension, causing him to become distressed in turn. Sakumo climbed stiffly to his feet.

“Farewell, my love,” he murmured. He turned away from the grave and headed out of the cemetery. He took a direct route back to his house, bounding along the rooftops, holding Kakashi securely against his chest to shield him from the bitter wind. He made it inside just as the skies opened, dropping freezing rain down on the village. He shut the door just as the first drops began to fall.

Sakumo toed his shoes off inside the door, nudging them to one side where no one would trip over them with his foot. Stepping further into the house, he unwrapped the heavy blankets from Kakashi and removed the hat. The baby’s fine silver hair stood on end from the static. Sakumo smoothed it down with one hand. Sleepy dark grey eyes watched his movements, taking in everything around him. He yawned widely and stretched, glad to be free of the confining blankets after so long. He flailed about a bit before managing to get one chubby fist into his mouth and began gnawing furiously on it.

“Time to eat, huh?” Sakumo asked.

Kakashi paused in his chewing, blinked at him, then continued trying to devour his own hand.

Sakumo was exhausted, physically and mentally. The past few days had been harder than anything he had ever experienced in his life. Going to his bedroom, he changed out of the standard shinobi mourning clothes and into his sleep clothes. He was too tired to care if it was still early. The clothes were tossed carelessly towards the hamper, his headband onto the dresser. He wanted nothing more than to fall headlong into bed and sleep for a week. But he was now a single father to an infant and had to attend to his son’s needs before anything else.

Going back to the kitchen, Sakumo managed to somehow manage to prepare a bottle while holding Kakashi without making too much of a mess. He grumbled under his breath in annoyance as he sloshed water and formula powder onto the counter. He wiped the mess up quickly. His wife had always made things look so easy. Sayomi had used some sort of sling to carry the infant around in while she did chores, he remembered. He should find it - it would come in handy. He shook his head. Even the simplest thoughts were too much right now. He focused instead on the baby greedily sucking down the contents of the bottle.

Once empty, Sakumo set the bottle aside to be washed later. Kakashi let out a blood curdling scream, his back arching in pain. For something so small, he could certainly be _loud._ Sakumo cursed himself for a fool. He had let the baby down an entire bottle without pausing to burp him. No wonder he was in pain. Feeling guilty, he sat down and lay the baby face down across his knees as he gently patted his back. A few minutes later the unmistakable scent of spit up hit his nose as he felt the wetness on his pant leg. He had forgotten a burp cloth or even a bib. But at least Kakashi no longer seemed to be so distressed.

He righted the child, sitting him up on his knees. Kakashi belched, bringing up another mouthful of spit. This time dribbling it all down his front. He looked up at his father and giggled, obviously feeling better. Sakumo smiled in spite of himself. He was a mess. Kakashi was a mess. He had no idea how to raise a baby on his own. He felt determination well up within him. He would find a way to do it. He cradled his son against his shoulder as he stood.

“We’ll figure this out somehow,” he murmured, wincing as Kakashi latched onto his hair with one tiny fist. He had one hell of a grip. Especially when he managed to get a handful of hair. Sakumo dimly thought about cutting off the pony-tail but Sayomi would come back from the afterlife to kill him if he did so. She had loved his hair long. Resigning himself to a sore scalp, he got a damp towel and cleaned Kakashi’s face. Then he went to the nursery and stripped off the wet sleeper. While he was at it, he changed the diaper.

After a long, stressful day and with a dry diaper, a full belly, and dressed in a warm sleeper, Kakashi’s eyelids were drooping. Sakumo walked around the house, rocking him. It didn’t take long for the infant to fall asleep. The house felt empty without Sayomi’s presence. Instead of putting Kakashi down in his crib, Sakumo carried him to his own bedroom. He lay Kakashi on the bed. He changed his own spit-up covered clothes and then pulled a spare blanket from the closet. He rolled it up, tucking it around the baby like a dam to prevent him from accidently rolling off the bed during the night before climbing into bed himself and turning off the light. He cradled his son in one arm, comforted by the warmth of the small body, the sounds of his soft breathing.

_I can do this,_ he thought as he closed his eyes and almost instantly began to drift off. _Kakashi is all I have now. I_ will _protect him_.


	2. Chapter 2

A week had passed since Sayomi’s funeral. Sakumo had started to fall into a routine, slowly acclimating to life without his wife at his side. He still often felt waves of crushing grief, especially when something reminded him strongly of her. Many times, he found himself waiting for her to come around the corner, her eyes shining as she smiled at him. Only to feel despair as he realized he would never see her smile again in this life. He focused his attention on caring for Kakashi. His son needed him and he would not let him down. He had promised his wife, his son, and himself that he would protect, care for, and raise the boy and he would. Even when he felt as if his world was collapsing around him, he would carry on for his son.

This particular morning had been an exceptionally difficult one. Kakashi had been restless and fussy for the past few nights resulting in neither of them getting much rest. Last night had been particularly bad. Consequently, the baby was cranky and out of sorts this morning. He had fussed the entire time Sakumo had tried to bathe him, flailing around and splashing so much that his father and half the bathroom were dripping. Sakumo had finally given it up as a lost cause. _Some_ of the soap had to have gotten on Kakashi by default, he figured. Kakashi had squirmed while being dried, squirmed while being diapered, and squirmed while being dressed. What should have taken only a few minutes had taken over half an hour. If it hadn’t been the middle of winter, Sakumo would have let him stay in just a diaper.

On top of everything, Kakashi had been crying on and off for hours. Nothing Sakumo did seemed to help for more than a few minutes. He wasn’t too warm or too cold, there was nothing rough or uncomfortable about his clothing, he didn’t need to be changed. Sakumo tried burping him, bouncing, rocking, nothing worked. He tried feeding him but Kakashi gnawed on the bottle’s nipple, causing the formula to leak everywhere, upsetting him even more now that he was wet and uncomfortable.

“What is _wrong?!”_ Sakumo wanted to either scream or weep in frustration as Kakashi began crying yet again. He didn’t know what else to do. His own exhaustion and hunger – he hadn’t yet had a chance to eat anything today - was making him short tempered but he knew it wasn’t Kakashi’s fault. The infant couldn’t tell him what was wrong. He was going to have to keep trying until he figured it out.

Sakumo settled for wiping Kakashi down with a warm wet cloth after stripping the soaked sleeper off once it was clear feeding him was a lost cause. He’d spit his entire breakfast out all over himself and his frustrated father. Sakumo was certain he’d never get the smell completely out of his nose. There was no way he was going to attempt another bath at the moment. He wasn’t certain his nerves could handle it. Wet babies were slippery at the best of times and with the way Kakashi was flailing around today he was terrified of dropping him. To top it off, his hair was still wet from Kakashi’s earlier splashing, droplets of water still dripping occasionally into his eyes, much to his dissatisfaction.

He was in the middle of trying to wrestle his son into a clean outfit when he heard a knock came on the front door. Sakumo wasn’t certain whether to be relieved that potential help was here or cry that yet another person wanted something from him. Picking up the half-dressed baby, he went to the door and pulled it open.

“You look like crap, Sakumo,” Jiraiya said bluntly, taking in the other’s harried appearance. His silver hair was wet and plastered over his forehead, the usually neat pony-tail was falling out, strands of hair hanging over his shoulders and around his face. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot and there were lines of tension around his eyes and mouth. Jiraiya also noticed his clothes were damp and smelled strange, too. His infant son in his arms had one arm in and one arm out of the sleeper he was half-wearing. Suddenly, the baby began wailing at the top of his lungs. Jiraiya winced at the ear-piercing sound.

“Then it’s a few steps up from how I feel,” Sakumo responded dryly, desperately trying to find some sort of humor in the situation before he broke down completely. “Come on in. Ignore the mess.” He stepped aside to allow his visitors entrance.

“Rough morning?” Jiraiya asked, his tone light. Inwardly, he was concerned. Sakumo Hatake was usually a neat and tidy man. While one would expect a certain amount of disarray with a new baby around and after the loss of his wife, it almost looked as if the other man was falling apart at the seams.

“You could say that.” Grey eyes turned to Tsunade, who had entered behind Jiraiya. “He’s been crying all morning and was fussy all last night, too. I can’t figure out why. Can you --?”

Tsunade nodded. She wasn’t used to babies but she was a skilled medical ninja. If the child was ill or hurt, she would be able to tell. She took the screaming baby. Kakashi paused in his wailing to take in the stranger. A moment later he was crying again; but at least he wasn’t screaming. Tsunade sat on the couch, laying Kakashi on the cushion beside her. She looked him over with a trained eye, looking for any signs of injury or symptoms of illness. He stuffed one hand into his mouth, muffling his cries. He chewed on his fingers. Tsunade frowned slightly. Gently, she pulled the slimy fist from his mouth, earning herself an angry wail of protest. Which gave her a perfect view of the inside of his mouth. She stuck one finger inside and smiled slightly as she discovered the source of the problem.

Picking up the still half-dressed baby, she went to the kitchen. The men exchanged a glance and shrugged. A moment later she returned. Kakashi was quiet and happily gnawing on an ice cube that had been wrapped in a clean towel. Tsunade had also somehow managed to get his sleeper completely on and fastened and had tucked another towel around his neck to keep him dry.

“What --?”

“He’s teething, Sakumo,” she explained gently.

“Teething? Already?”

“Yeah. He’s how old now? Five, six months?”

“Four.”

“Well, it’s a bit early but he’s definitely teething.”

“Oh.” Sakumo felt stupid. How had he not figured that out?

“Don’t beat yourself up over it. Go get cleaned up and dried off. I’ll make you some breakfast. I get the feeling you haven’t eaten yet today.”

Sakumo started to protest, then gave in with a resigned sigh. He knew better than to get on Tsunade’s bad side. She had a short temper and monster strength. It was a terrifying combination and even he wasn’t so foolish as to push her. Besides, he _was_ getting rather uncomfortable in his damp and smelly clothes.

“Here, hold him,” Tsunade said to Jiraiya, placing Kakashi in his arms.

“Ehhh… right.” Jiraiya had never been particularly fond of children. They tended to be noisy and messy and pretty women focused on the kids more than him. And, worst of all, they were much too young to appreciate the fawning the pretty women did over them. However, he took the squirming bundle from Tsunade, eyeing it warily as heavy-lidded grey eyes stared back up at him. They had grown up together and had been friends for a long time. The least Jiraiya could do was hold Sakumo’s brat for a few minutes so the other could get cleaned up and have a bite to eat in peace. At the moment the baby was calm, happily biting on the cold towel while making soft cooing sounds to himself, his earlier distress already forgotten.

_What the hell was the kid’s name again?_ Jiraiya thought, trying to remember. He knew Sakumo had mentioned it; the man hadn’t shut up about the kid once Sayomi had told him she was pregnant. _K-something or other? Kaito? No, it ended with an ‘I’. Kazuki? No, it was something really weird… Kakashi, that was it! Scarecrow. Poor kid. Fits right in, though._ He smirked. Even the Hatake Clan symbol was that of a diamond divined into nine equal sections, reminiscent of sectioned out farmland. Jiraiya strongly suspected the name had been Sayomi’s idea. Sakumo had often lamented the etymology of his name – likely derived from _‘_ sakumotsu’, meaning produce or crops. Sayomi had always had a thing for word games and puns. ‘Kakashi’ would have fit her sense of humor just perfectly.

A few minutes later Sakumo came back into the kitchen. He still looked tired and worn. But at least his hair was no longer dripping. He had brushed it and retied the pony-tail so it hung neatly down his back. He’d changed out of his damp clothes into something dry and not covered in spit up and who only knew what else. He went to the counter and began preparing a bottle. Tsunade started to scold him, then realized what he was doing and let him be.

“I got it,” Jiraiya said, reaching a hand out to take the bottle from him as Sakumo sat at the table across from him. Tsunade had just set a plate down in front of Sakumo. Kakashi clapped his chubby hands around the bottle and began sucking on it greedily as Jiraiya offered it to him.

“Don’t let him down it all at once,” Sakumo mumbled around a mouthful of food. “Or he’ll puke it all back up.”

“Right,” Jiraiya eyed the baby he held dubiously. He _really_ wasn’t fond of kids. But his friend looked like hell. He’d just lost his wife and had suddenly become a single father overnight. Jiraiya could handle his kid drooling on him for a bit, disgusting as it might be.

“What brings you out this way?” Sakumo asked, feeling more human as he ate and enjoying _not_ having the sound of Kakashi’s screaming ringing in his ears for a few minutes.

“We just got back late last night,” Tsunade answered, seating herself across from him and next to Jiraiya. Her brown eyes softened as she gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry we missed Sayomi’s funeral.”

“There’s a war going on. Nothing to do about it.” He rested his elbow on the table and his chin on his hand as he finished eating. He knew he should get up and clear his plate. Clean the kitchen, too while he was at it. And the rest of the house. Normally tidy, things had fallen into a bit of disarray since Sayomi’s death. He was still learning to juggle daily chores with watching an infant. And he was so damn tired all the time…

His head snapped up with a start. When had he started to doze off? His eyelids drooped again, feeling unnaturally heavy all of a sudden. He realized Tsunade was watching him intently. His eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“What did you do, Tsunade?” he demanded. It came out a lot less threateningly than he’d hoped. It was all he could do to keep his eyes open.

“You’re exhausted, Sakumo. Go lay down for a bit. We’ll take care of Kakashi.”

“No. I have to –“

She gave him a stern look that clearly said it would be in his own best interest not to argue. “Go. Lay. Down. Before you pass out on the table, if you please. I’d rather not have to carry you to bed.”

Sakumo glared at her for a moment before conceding defeat. He pushed himself to his feet. His limbs already felt leaden and slow. He cursed himself inwardly. He should have known Tsunade would pull something like this. He stumbled to his bedroom, collapsing in a sprawled heap onto his bed moments before the world faded away.

“That wasn’t very nice, Tsunade,” Jiraiya said, watching as Sakumo stumbled out of the room.

“It’s for his own good,” Tsunade stated, completely unfazed. “Look around. He’s barely keeping himself together. I’m betting the only reason he’s not a complete wreck is Kakashi. Sayomi was his world, you know that as well as I. We can’t do anything to bring her back. But we _can_ give him a break for a few hours and a decent nap.”

“Yeah,” Jiraiya said sadly. _Her first mission after maternity leave, too. What a crappy war._ He looked down at the baby in his arms. With a full belly and no longer in pain from his teeth, the dark eyes were beginning to droop closed. Even his interest in this stranger had waned in favor of sleep. He bounced the kid absently as the baby yawned widely at him. “He’s gonna be pissed when he wakes up, you know.”

Tsunade shrugged. “He’ll get over it. I’m going to go and make a batch of something for the baby’s gums. Teething is going to be rough. And pick up some groceries. This place is almost bare. Will you be alright?”

“The kid’s falling asleep, so I’ll be fine. Just make sure you’re back before Sakumo wakes up. I don’t want to be blamed for that stunt.”

Tsunade smirked. “It shouldn’t take that long.” She put her shoes on and slipped silently out the door, leaving Jiraiya alone. He continued bouncing the infant he held for another few minutes. The dark eyes had closed and his breathing was deep and even. Convinced he was finally asleep, Jiraiya got up and found the nursery. He lay Kakashi carefully in the crib. Sound asleep, he didn’t even stir. Grateful to be free of the baby, he checked on Sakumo. The other man was sprawled across his bed, out cold. Jiraiya tossed a blanket over him and backed out of the room, shutting the door softly behind him so he could rest in peace. He agreed with Tsunade that Sakumo needed rest, even if he didn’t necessarily agree with her methods.

Returning to the kitchen, he cleared the plate from the table, setting it in the sink. Plugging the sink, he began filling it with hot water, adding in a generous dollop of soap. Turning the water off, he pushed up his sleeves and got to work on the dishes that had started to pile up. He wondered how to get the bottles clean until he spied a rounded brush behind the faucet. One by one, the dishes went into the drying rack on the counter beside the sink. Finished with that task, he drained the water and picked up a rag to wipe down the counters.

He went to the living room and began straightening it up. It wasn’t messy per se, just beginning to become disorganized. He picked up a few of Kakashi’s scattered toys, carefully placing them into the toy box he had spotted in the baby’s room, so as not to wake him. He had just finished sweeping the floors when there came a soft knock on the front door. He opened it to find Orochimaru standing there with his arms laden with shopping bags from the market. Jiraiya stepped aside so he could enter.

“I ran into Tsunade,” was all the explanation needed. He set the bags on the newly cleaned counters and glanced around. “Where’s Sakumo?”

“Tsunade knocked him out.”

One eyebrow went up at that. “Then why did I just haul groceries over here for a corpse?”

Jiraiya chuckled. “No, she drugged him.” That got a second eyebrow and he just shrugged. “He looked like hell. Said the kid was up all night. He probably hasn’t been sleeping much this past week or so anyway.”

“Hm. He’s going to be pissed when he wakes up.”

“Let Tsunade deal with him. He’s scared of her.”

They began unpacking the bags, putting the groceries away in the pantry and fridge.

“Where is Tsunade, anyway? I thought she’d be over here with you. She handed me a list, told me to buy it and bring it over here. I assumed it was so she could get back.”

“She said she was going to get some groceries - which she apparently passed on to you. And make something for the kid. He’s teething.”

“Ugg.” Orochimaru had no use for children. Especially ones that still drooled and leaked. He had almost forgotten that Sakumo and Sayomi had a child. It could only be a few months old at most, still in the disgusting phase. “I don’t see it around. What did you do with the little brat?”

“Kakashi’s napping,” Jiraiya said, amused by the other’s disgust. “Passed right out after eating.”

“Kakashi, huh? That’s the brat’s name? Seriously?” He shook his head. “That must have been Sayomi’s idea. She always had a thing for puns. Sakumo would never have come up with it. I’m surprised he went along with it. He bitches about his name often enough.”

“Only when he’s had a few drinks,” Jiraiya defended. “Love makes men do stupid things.”

Orochimaru rolled his eyes. _Love_ , he sneered inwardly. As far as he was concerned, such feelings were a weakness. One that someone as powerful as the White Fang shouldn’t indulge in. It would lead to his downfall one day, he was certain.

A short time later, Jiraiya heard Kakashi fussing. He went to the nursery. Kakashi looked up at him and let out another whine. “What’s up, kid?” he asked. The baby continued to whimper at him. With a sigh, he lifted him out of the crib. As soon as he was picked up, he quieted. Finding a pacifier, Jiraiya stuck it in Kakashi’s mouth. Kakashi sucked on it but showed no signs of going back to sleep. Jiraiya bounced him and rocked him. He simply looked up with solemn grey eyes. “You’re not going back to sleep, are you, kid?”

As if in response, Kakashi spat out the pacifier and began trying to grab one foot. Getting his chubby hands on it, he tried shoving it into his mouth. Jiraiya pulled his foot away, stuck the pacifier back in his mouth, and carried him back to the living room. He spat the pacifier out again and instead shoved one fist into his mouth, gnawing contentedly.

“Ugg,” Jiraiya groaned as Kakashi began drooling around the hand in his mouth. “Seriously, kid?” He picked up what he hoped was a burp cloth and wiped the drool away. “Here, hold him a minute,” Jiraiya said, passing the baby to Orochimaru. “I’ve gotta hit the bathroom.”

“What?!” the other man was horrified by the thought. “No way!” Jiraiya thrust the infant into his arms. Orochimaru held him out at arm’s length as if he was something particularly unpleasant. Kakashi giggled and kicked his feet. “Erghhh… Jiraiya!” He wanted nothing to do with this squirming, drooling brat. He felt the overwhelming desire to simply drop it, but knew that would earn him a quick death. He was not so foolish as to harm Sakumo Hatake’s brat. What was the appeal, anyway? He eyed the baby warily, trying to figure out just why anyone in their right mind would _choose_ to have one. It was small, funny looking, and messy. And what was that _smell_? He sniffed delicately and made a face. It was definitely coming from Sakumo’s brat. Said brat suddenly decided he’d had enough of this dangling and began to wail. Orochimaru cringed. How could it possibly be so loud?

“Don’t dangle him like fish bait,” Jiraiya said.

“You come and hold him, then!” was the angry retort.

“You’ll be fine for a few minutes. Don’t drop him.” Was the incredibly unhelpful advice as he disappeared from view.

“Ergh!” He eyed the screaming baby as if it was a bomb ready to go off at any moment. “Dammit, Jiraiya!” he began, hearing footsteps approaching. “Hurry up and take this!”

It wasn’t Jiraiya who appeared in the doorway, but Sakumo. He looked tired and disheveled but alert. “Where’s Tsunade?” he asked, taking pity on the other and taking Kakashi from him.

“I have no idea. Off making some concoction, I suppose.” He watched Sakumo cuddle his brat to him. The boy quieted instantly. He wondered how anyone with such an acute sense of smell could stand being so close to the stench the kid was emitting. It defied all logic. _He’s either gone completely nose blind or it’s one of those weird parent things. Disgusting._

“Hm.” Sakumo seemed to finally notice the stench coming from the kid. “Let me take care of this. I’ll be right back.”

When he returned, Kakashi smelled much better. Sakumo held him against his shoulder. One fist had latched itself firmly onto his pony-tail. _Why is it always the hair!?_ He pulled it away as Kakashi tried to stuff the silver stands into his mouth. He could handle the tugging. He drew the line at eating.

“Don’t look at me, I had nothing to do with it, I swear!” was the first thing Jiraiya said as he reentered the room, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. He didn’t _think_ Sakumo would kill him while holding Kakashi but one never knew. The man hadn’t earned his fearsome reputation for his looks. “But you look better.”

The front door opened as Tsunade returned. She eyed Sakumo for a moment. He glared at her. “What the hell, Tsunade?”

She looked completely unconcerned by his glare. “You needed rest. You’re no good to anybody, least of all your son, if you’re ready to keel over at any minute.”

“You could have asked –“

“You would have said no. I simply avoided the argument about it.”

He sighed, conceding her point. He _would_ have said no, not wanting to burden his friends. The Leaf Village was embroiled in a war. Everyone was struggling in some way or another. He had spent more time in the village these past few months than most other shinobi other than the wounded. It felt unfair to ask those who had come back after and would leave again before him to give up their precious time for his sake.

“This is for Kakashi,” she said, interrupting his thoughts. She placed a small jar on the table. “Just rub a bit on his gums when he starts fussing. Don’t try feeding him right after. It’ll numb his mouth so you’ll just get a mess and he could choke.”

“Thanks, Tsunade.” His expression softened.

“You don’t need much so that should last a while. If you need more, I left the recipe at the hospital. Any competent medical ninja can whip you up another batch.”

“Thanks.”

They sat around the table for a bit, catching up and exchanging news. Finally, Jiraiya, Tsunade, and Orochimaru stood to leave.

“We’re going to be heading out again in a couple of days. Heading towards the Hidden Rain Village. Word is Hanzo the Salamander’s stepping up operations over there.”

“Be careful,” Sakumo replied. “From what I’ve heard, Hanzo can be ruthless. The Hidden Rain’s been holding its own in this war – that’s no mean feat.”

Jiraiya gave him a cocky grin. “We’ll be fine. I’d rather take on Hanzo than deal with a kid, that’s for sure!” Nevertheless, he ran one large hand over the wispy silver hair on the baby’s head. “You’re doing a good job here, Sakumo,” he said seriously. “Kakashi’s lucky to have you.”

Sakumo stood in the doorway and watched the trio disappear down the street. He hated watching his friends leave, knowing they would be heading back into the war soon while he stayed safe in the village. He looked down at Kakashi, who was once again fascinated with his own feet. He forced his guilt aside. Right now his son needed him most. He turned and went back inside.


	3. Chapter 3

Another couple weeks passed before the meeting Sakumo had been dreading finally occurred. He had just put Kakashi down for a nap when there came a knock on the front door. Answering it, he found the Hokage standing there.

“Lord Third!” Sakumo said, surprised that he had come to his home rather than summoning him to his office. “Uh, please, come in.” He stepped aside, making note of the ANBU who had taken up guard positions in nearby trees. “Would you care for some tea?” he asked as he closed the door.

“That would be lovely, thank you.” The Hokage sat at the table, removing his broad hat and placing it beside him as Sakumo put a teakettle on to boil. He observed the silver-haired jonin as he moved about the kitchen. The domestic acts belied the deadly skill the man possessed. “How is Kakashi?” he asked conversationally.

“Growing fast. He’s napping right now. I can --”

“No, don’t wake him.”

Sakumo wasn’t fooled by the casual conversation for a moment. He knew the Hokage hadn’t come all the way out here to have tea and chat. _A ninja must see through deception._ It was one of the first things young would-be shinobi learned at the Academy.

Hiruzen knew full well Sakumo knew there was a more important reason why he was here. The man was no fool and was patient enough to wait him out. He sighed inwardly, knowing the younger man was not going to like what he had to say. He waited until Sakumo had poured the tea and seated himself before getting to the reason for his visit.

“Sakumo,” he said, cradling the cup between his hands on the table before him after he had taken a few sips. “You need to return to active duty.”

Sakumo’s face was blank, giving nothing of his thoughts away. Inwardly, he was in turmoil. He had known this was coming but it was still difficult, now that the time was here. “Without Sayomi here –“ He felt the crushing weight of grief crash down on him. He paused, drawing in a deep breath to steady himself. “I can’t just leave Kakashi alone.”

“No one is asking you to. But the Hidden Leaf is still at war, Sakumo. Your skills are needed. You will need to make arrangements for the boy’s care. I can give you another week, maybe two. That’s all we can spare.”

Sakumo nodded dully. It had been just over a month since he had buried his wife. Now he was being told he needed to leave his son behind and return to the war. The very thought of leaving Kakashi so soon hurt his heart. How could he leave the village, leaving his infant son behind, knowing full well he may not ever return. How could they ask him to potentially orphan his child?

Intellectually, he knew the Hokage was right. Every able-bodied shinobi was needed to aid in the war effort. Hiruzen had already been more than generous with allowing him time off from his duties in order to care for his son, but his head and his heart were having a hard time agreeing at the moment about leaving once again. He had known he’d have to return to the battlefield sooner rather than later. It seemed the Hidden Leaf could no longer afford for him not to fight.

“I understand,” Sakumo said heavily.

“I will have your assignment sent over in a few days,” the Hokage said, getting to his feet. Sakumo stood as well, escorting him to the door. Hiruzen left without another word. He knew there was nothing that he could say that would ease Sakumo’s heart and the other man would not thank him for empty words and promises that could not be kept. As Hokage, Hiruzen had to think of the entire village, not just one man. He had given Sakumo as much time as he could but the Leaf couldn’t afford to have such a high-level jonin inactive indefinitely. It was times like these when he felt the heavy burden of the office which he had been entrusted.

* * *

Sakumo stared out across the battlefield. The landscape was littered with the dead from all sides. Carrion birds were already circling, anticipating a feast. He turned away and headed back to the Leaf camp. There was nothing he could do for the dead. There were too many to carry back to their respective villages and too many to properly bury on the battlefield. The corpses would be left for the scavengers to strip to the bones, which would then remain as a grisly reminder of what had occurred here. Normally, specialized units would be dispatched to destroy the bodies. In a full-scale war, there were too many dead for them to keep up with. Now those units only disposed of the bodies of the highest level shinobi or those with kekkei genkai. If the end of the war came soon enough, perhaps shallow mass graves would be dug. The longer this war dragged on, the less stomach he had for it. Too many had died already. He’d heard tell of shinobi who had abandoned their comrades on the battlefield to be slaughtered. He was disgusted by such tales. What were they fighting for if their comrades’ lives meant nothing, if bonds were so easily sacrificed?

The Hidden Leaf had been embroiled in this war for almost five years. Sakumo had spent most of that time either on various battlefields or out on missions that supported the war effort. Or the occasional high-level “s” ranked mission that required a jonin of his skill. He’d spent less than a half a year total in the village during that time. The only time it had been for more than a few days had been right around the time Sayomi had given birth and then again four months later for her funeral. He’d been granted a month’s leave to care for his wife and newborn son before being dragged back into the war. He’d been home for another month and a half after Sayomi had died. As a newly-single parent he’d had to arrange care for Kakashi while he was gone for long stretches. Most of the people he trusted were also shinobi and therefore, not a reliable long-term solution. He had also been in no condition to carry out any sort of mission, so wrapped up in his own grief and exhaustion. But eventually, the Hokage had been forced to tell him he was needed again and would be heading out in a few days.

That had been almost three and a half years ago.

He walked through the camp, wrapped up in his own dark thoughts. Nobody stopped him or attempted to engage him in conversation; his dark aura warning all to keep their distance. He caught snippets of the conversations taking place around him. He mostly ignored them until he heard one in particular that caught his attention.

“Have you heard? There’s talk that a peace treaty is being negotiated!”

Sakumo hoped it was true. He was tired of war. He wanted to get home to his son. He hated being gone for weeks or months at a time. Every time he returned he hardly recognized Kakashi, he’d grown so much. He was missing too much of his son’s life - his first words, his first steps, everything new parents looked forward to experiencing. After her death, he had promised Sayomi he’d always be there for their boy. He was failing to keep his promise miserably. He hadn’t spent more than four days at a time in the village these past three years. The time between those visits stretched longer and longer. He would have liked nothing more than to quit being a shinobi, to take his son and go live somewhere in peace. But that was impossible. Being a shinobi was all that he knew and he loved his village and its people. He could never turn his back on them. So, when the Hokage told him that the Village Hidden in the Leaves needed the White Fang yet again he answered the call, even as it broke his heart.

Oh, Kakashi was being well cared for in his absence. He’d found a retired couple whose children were already grown to care for him while he was away. They’d accepted gladly, happy to have a young child running around their home once again. The additional income was welcome as well. Sakumo was more grateful than ever that he had always lived a rather modest lifestyle. It meant he was able to still comfortably provide for his son while away. The couple were not so old or infirm as to not be able to care for an infant or keep up with an active toddler. Sakumo was able to concentrate on his missions, knowing his son was cared for and safe, if somewhat spoiled. He was doted on and lacked for nothing while his father was away at war.

Sakumo found a quiet spot to sit and spread his weapons out on the ground in front of him. He noticed he was running low on shuriken and explosive tags and made a mental note to pick up some more. He checked over the assorted kunai, sharpening those whose blades had dulled and rewrapping the handles of others. He examined the tanto he carried on his back last. The white chakra saber was his weapon of choice for close combat. It had been passed down through his family from father to son for generations and one day he’d pass it to Kakashi. Focusing one’s chakra through the blade caused it to leave a white streak in its wake. It had been that distinctive white chakra trail which in part had given rise to the moniker ‘White Fang’.

He pulled the blade from its sheath and examined the edge carefully. He _tisked_ softly as he noted some dulling. He’d recently engaged with a pair of shinobi from the Hidden Sand Village who’d given him a bit of trouble. The blade must had gotten dulled in that encounter. As he sharpened it, he mused that he’d heard Tsunade had her hands full recently with someone from the Hidden Sand as well. Some sort of poison master who’d given the other villages a hell of a time with her concoctions. Tsunade had worked tirelessly to counteract the poisons, saving the lives of many. She had been lobbying for the inclusion of medical ninja to be included on all squads, or at least shinobi with some medical training. She argued it would increase the survival rate of the shinobi in the field. Sakumo agreed.

Finishing with his weapons, he returned them to their various places on his person. The tanto went into the sheath on his back. Kunai went into the holster on his thigh and the pouch on his hip. Shuriken joined them in the pouch. He stood and stretched. He wanted to go home. He was tired of this war.

* * *

At long last, the Second Great Shinobi War drew to a close. Sakumo was glad to return to the Hidden Leaf Village. He knew there would still be plenty of missions to go on. He was fine with that. It was war he hated. He hated full scale battles. They seemed so pointless and wasteful. Hundreds or thousands died in a single conflict. And for what? The pride of nations. The desires of those far removed from the carnage and conflict; those who would never know the true cost of their war upon those who fought in them?

He returned to the Hidden Leaf. The atmosphere was one of both celebration and mourning. Peace had been successfully negotiated. Over the next few weeks there would be many funerals held for those who had not returned. That was for tomorrow, however. Right now, Sakumo was on his way to collect his son and return home. He had no doubt it would need a good airing. It had been far too long since he had last been there. It had been months since he’d seen Kakashi and he was both excited to see him yet apprehensive about the greeting he’d receive.

“Dad?” Kakashi was almost four now. His hair was a mass of untamed silver spikes and his heavy-lidded eyes gave him the appearance of being half asleep or perpetually bored. The shape of his eyes was the only thing of Sayomi that Sakumo saw in Kakashi. Otherwise, the boy was a mirror image of himself. It was the only reason he even recognized him, he thought sadly. His son had grown so much. Too much.

“Hello, Kakashi. The war’s over.”

“You’re coming home for good?”

Sakumo nodded. “I’ll still have regular missions to carry out. But yes, I’m staying home from now on.”

“Good.”

Sakumo smiled as Kakashi came to him and threw his small arms around his neck. He scooped Kakashi up into his arms and stood. _He’s gotten heavier_. He spent a short time exchanging news and pleasantries with the couple who had cared for his son while he was away. While he wanted nothing more than to catch up with what had been going on with Kakashi, he owed them a great debt for caring for his son for so long. Kakashi snuggled up in his arms, resting his head against his shoulder, his small hands clinging to his flak jacket. He was perfectly content. His father had promised he’d be home now and that was all the boy cared about.

The couple that had cared for him had been kind and they often spoiled him. They did not let him get away with mischief but Kakashi was a naturally well behaved and obedient child. The trouble he got into was usually caused by curiosity rather than malicious intent. They made certain to keep the inquisitive child busy, his days filled with activities and learning so he would not seek out trouble out of boredom. Their grown children had occasionally come by with their own children for him to play with. He had wanted for nothing while his father was away other than his father’s presence. Kakashi was too young to truly understand why his father was gone from the village for such long stretches of time. More than once he had cried with loneliness, wondering if he had done something wrong that meant his father didn’t want him anymore. The couple had reassured him that it wasn’t anything he had done. A shinobi’s duty to Village and Country came before even that to his family and that his father was doing his best to return home as soon as he could. Kakashi had cherished the few days that his father had been able to return from the battlefield. The visits were always too far apart had always ended much too soon for his liking. He had begged his father to be allowed to go with him, only to be told gently yet firmly that it was impossible. The boy had decided that he was going to become a great shinobi like his father so that he wouldn’t be left behind any more.

“Kakashi,” Sakumo said. “Go and get your things together.”

Kakashi clung more tightly to his father, unwilling to be put down, and shook his head.

“Take Kakashi home, Sakumo. We’ll drop his things off later.”

“I –“

“Kakashi has missed you terribly these past months. And I’m certain you’ve missed him just as much. We’ll bring some of his clothes by this evening. We can work out dropping the rest of his belongings off later. Go, now.”

“Thank you.” Sakumo said, grateful.

Sakumo carried Kakashi in his arms as he left, heading for the main roads that would take him back towards his own home. He had missed his son terribly and was saddened by how much he had grown in his absence. Kakashi was quiet, clinging to him tightly as if afraid he would disappear if he let go.

“We should probably pick up something for dinner on the way home,” Sakumo mused out loud. “There’s not much at the house and certainly nothing fresh.” He knew there were some canned and dried good in the pantry but the refrigerator would be empty. He was gone too long for perishables to be kept. “What do you say to dumplings?”

Kakashi nodded. He would have said okay to anything so long as his father remained. Sakumo shifted Kakashi to his hip in order to free one hand to pay for and carry the food. Kakashi had always enjoyed being carried by his father, though he had never been quite so clingy before. Sakumo chalked it up to his long absences. He didn’t mind carrying his son. He knew soon enough Kakashi would eschew being carried at all. He would enjoy it while it lasted.

Sakumo looked around as they entered the house. He had to toe his sandals off as Kakashi was showing no signs of being willing to be put down just yet. Kakashi kicked off his shoes and simply dropped them to the floor. Sakumo nudged them to the side and went to the kitchen, putting the bag containing their dinner on the counter.

“This place could use a bit of dusting, huh,” he commented. “Why don’t we take care of it after dinner?”

Kakashi nodded. Sakumo set his on his feet and dampened a cloth. He handed it to Kakashi with instructions to wipe down the table while he washed some dishes for them to eat off of. He set the dishes on the table along with the food and then went through the house, opening windows to allow fresh air in. Months of being closed up with no inhabitants had left the house feeling closed and musty.

As they ate, Sakumo inquired to what Kakashi had done while he was away. The boy shrugged then told him of the various things he had done and seen. With bright eyes, Kakashi asked about the missions Sakumo had gone on and what he’d done during the war. Sakumo didn’t want to glorify or romanticize the war but he wasn’t about to tell a four-year-old about the horrors he’d seen, either. He told Kakashi some toned down tales while they did some light cleaning, Kakashi hanging on every word.

* * *

Sakumo was half asleep when he heard the soft pitter patter of bare feet approaching. They stopped beside his bed. He waited for his son to tell him what he wanted.

“Dad?”

“What is it, Kakashi? What’s wrong?”

The boy climbed up beside him. Sakumo opened his eyes to see his son staring intently back at him. The intensity of Kakashi’s gaze was a bit disconcerting. Maybe it was just a trick of the dim moon light that filtered in through the curtained window.

“Are you really staying home now? You’re really not going to leave for so long again?”

“Yeah, son.”

Kakashi lay down, snuggling against him. Sakumo allowed it. It had been much too long since he’d been home last. His son had already grown too much in that time. Kakashi’s eyes drooped shut. “Promise?” he murmured sleepily.

Sakumo smiled as he gathered Kakashi in his arms, holding him close. “Promise.” In the back of his mind he hoped it was a promise he could keep. He felt his son relax, content with his word. Comforted, Kakashi soon fell asleep. Sakumo allowed him to remain where he was. The extended absences had been hard for both of them and the boy wanted reassurance that he was still there. And, he admitted silently, he had missed his child also. Kakashi was still young enough to enjoy being held and cuddled. Sakumo knew that all too soon the boy would want independence and would shy away from his father’s affection. He had missed so much of his life already, he would make the most of his time now.


	4. Chapter 4

As he grew from toddler to preschooler, it became clear that Kakashi had inherited a fair amount of his father’s skills and abilities. He was able to analyze situations quickly and devise a course of action. His shuriken and kunai hit the center of the target more often than not. He could draw upon and manipulate his own chakra and had begun developing his chakra control. His ninjutsu skills were remarkable as were his taijutsu abilities. Most children his age had rudimentary chakra control at best, able only to perform the simplest of jutsu and even those not very well as they simply lacked the amount of chakra and the control necessary to be effective.

Sakumo was setting the table for dinner when Kakashi entered the house, somewhat dirty from a day of playing outside at the park with some of the other village children. If he had his way, the boy would spend all his time training or reading. His father made certain he didn’t isolate himself as he tended to want to do. No matter his skills, it would do him no good to grow up alone and without friends. Kakashi had the potential to be an excellent shinobi someday. But for now he was still a little boy and play and socializing were as important as training.

“Hi, Dad!” Kakashi called as he pulled off his sandals, leaving them neatly by the door.

At almost five years old, he was a bit small for his age. His slender build belied his strength, often to the detriment of any who assumed the small boy would be an easy target for bullying. His spiky silver hair fell forward over his left eye. Looking at his son was almost like looking at a mirror back in time, Sakumo mused. Kakashi looked a great deal like he had at his age. He suspected the resemblance would become more pronounced as he got older. A part of him was saddened by that. He saw very little of Sayomi in Kakashi other than his heavy-lidded eyes. Even their color matched his own.

Of course, that was when he could actually _see_ his face. Shortly after Sakumo had returned home from the War, Kakashi had begun wearing a dark mask that covered the lower half of his face. Sakumo never had gotten a satisfactory answer from him as to what had prompted the wardrobe addition. Seeing no harm in it, he had indulged his son, thinking it was nothing more than a passing phase that he’d soon outgrow. Sakumo was now beginning to think it was a bit more than just a passing fancy. As it wasn’t harming anything, he simply shrugged and allowed it to pass without comment. Kakashi would let him in on his reasons when he was ready and not a minute before.

“Did you have fun with your friends?” Sakumo asked.

Kakashi nodded as he climbed up onto the counter to wash his hands. “Yeah. Though even after I beat him in kunai throwing, Obito just kept going on and on about how he’s a member of the _elite_ Uchiha Clan and how _awesome_ his Sharingan is going to be and how he’s going to be _so_ much better than me once it awakens. It hasn’t awakened yet – and who knows if it even will - so who _cares_. Seriously!” He jumped down, landing lightly on the floor.

Sakumo forced himself not to smile at his son’s disgruntled tone. For once he sounded just like the child he still was. It was refreshing. Kakashi’s natural genius often made him forget that not everyone possessed his talents. Due to that, he tended to have unnaturally high expectations of others. He needed to learn that the ease at which the shinobi arts came to him was the exception, not the rule. And to be more tolerant of those who didn’t live up to his exceedingly high expectations. From Kakashi’s descriptions of their interactions, it seemed to Sakumo that Obito was jealous of the natural talent Kakashi possessed. It sounded as though Obito had entered into a one-sided rivalry with his son. One-sided as Kakashi wouldn’t view the other boy as a rival since they were mismatched in their respective skills. Though that could very well begin to change as he and his peers entered the Ninja Academy and began training in earnest. Sakumo wasn’t going to force the issue right now. All he could do was gently remind his son that no matter what the abilities of his peers, he still needed to respect them as they embarked on the path to becoming shinobi.

“The Academy entrance exam is coming up soon,” Kakashi said nonchalantly as they seated themselves at the table. He glanced at his father out of the corner of his eye to gauge his reaction. “I’m old enough to apply this year.”

“I see.”

“I want to apply,” Kakashi continued after several moments of silence. He looked up at his father, meeting his appraising gaze evenly.

Sakumo was unsurprised to hear Kakashi wanted to apply to the Leaf’s Ninja Academy as soon as he was able. He’d wanted to be a shinobi practically since he could talk. The age requirements had recently been lowered to allow students as young as five to apply. A consequence of the losses incurred during the last War. Sakumo knew Kakashi would be granted entrance should he apply. He had trained his son himself, after all, and knew full well the extent of his abilities. He still had mixed feelings about allowing Kakashi to begin formal ninja training so young.

He looked into the dark eyes that silently pleaded with him. With his mask pushed down around his throat, Kakashi looked very young. Yet there was a determined set to his jaw and his gaze was steady and unwavering. This was what he’d always wanted and he was dead-set on getting his father to agree.

“Please, Dad,” Kakashi said softly. “Being a shinobi is all I’ve ever wanted.”

Sakumo sighed inwardly. Other than his age, he had no good reason to forbid Kakashi from entering the Academy. Even that reason wouldn’t hold up as Sakumo had only been slightly older when he had entered the Academy himself. _As young as he is, Kakashi has always been decisive. I could make him wait a year or two but what will that accomplish? This is what he wants. He has the skill. Please forgive me, Sayomi. Our boy is growing up too quickly._ “Alright,” he agreed. “You can apply.”

“Thanks, Dad!” Kakashi beamed at him.

_Kakashi’s smart but the Academy is different than just training with me or by himself. He still has a lot to learn before becoming a genin. He’ll have a few years to grow while there._ The thought allowed Sakumo to match his son’s smile, consoled that his son wouldn’t be facing the harsh realities of shinobi life just yet.

* * *

“ _You’re_ going to be a jonin instructor?” Sakumo asked with a laugh. He and Jiraiya sat in a tea house, enjoying a lazy afternoon catching up. It had been a number of years since they’d had the opportunity to sit down and talk.

“Hey, you don’t have to sound so surprised. I think I have quite a bit to offer fresh young genin!”

“I’m not so sure peeping techniques are part of the standard curriculum.”

Jiraiya looked affronted. “Is that what you think of me, Sakumo? I’m insulted.” His grin belied his hurt tone. He took a sip of his tea. “I’m a bit surprised you’re not a squad leader.”

“No thanks. I’ve got enough on my plate as it is. Besides, I’m hardly cut out for the job.”

“Hm.” Jiraiya couldn’t completely disagree. Sakumo was an extremely skilled shinobi, that was true. He was quite possibly even stronger than Jiraiya. Jiraiya would hesitate to challenge him to a one-on-one fight without very good reason. As skilled as he was, a great deal of Sakumo’s skills were inherent and therefore not teachable. He could teach formations and strategy but not the instinct that allowed him to make split-second decisions based off of nothing more than his gut feeling. Nor the natural genius that he possessed. It would leave both him and his students frustrated at best.

“Have you gotten your genin yet?” Jiraiya swore he heard the snicker in the other man’s tone. Was it really so hard to believe that he could be a teacher? Perhaps it _was_ a little out of character, he conceded. But the last war had left the Leaf Village at its lowest military strength in recent history. They needed every able-bodied shinobi. Many chunin and jonin had been killed in battle, leaving a lot of genin without guidance and teams short-handed. Being an instructor was not Jiraiya’s first choice of assignments but it was where he could currently do the most good. Besides, several of these kids looked to be rather promising.

“As a matter of fact, I have. One in particular looks to have quite a bit of potential. A kid by the name of Minato Namikaze. Already begun making a bit of a name for himself, I hear. Graduated top of his class at the Academy. Broke some of your records if the rumors are true.” He waited to see how that last bit would be received. Sakumo was about the least arrogant man Jiraiya knew. That didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy needling him now and then.

“About time someone did,” Sakumo commented casually, taking a sip of his drink. “I’d have hated to put that all on Kakashi.”

“Speaking of, how is your brat, anyway? Last time I saw him he was a drooling mess. What is he, three or something now?”

“He just turned five,” Sakumo said sourly. “Honestly, has all the heat from the hot springs you keep peeping in fried your brain? He’s taking the Academy entrance exam in a few days.”

“Already? Huh. Isn’t he a little young?”

Sakumo shrugged. “Not really. They’ve lowered the enrollment age. A consequence of losing so many shinobi in the last war, I imagine.”

“Yeah…” Jiraiya swirled his tea around in his cup. “You heard about Dan and Nawaki?”

Sakumo nodded, sobering as well. “Yeah. How’s Tsunade? I noticed she hasn’t come back to the village yet.”

“I don’t expect she will for a while, if ever,” Jiraiya said. “Dan bled out in her arms. She hasn’t been dealing well. Developed a crippling fear of blood. Not a good thing for a medical shinobi. And losing bother her fiancé and her little brother so close together… Dan’s niece, Shizune went with her. That’s something, at least.”

“Yeah...” Sakumo knew all too well the pain of losing a loved one. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t feel the loss of his wife, even after nearly five years. He knew it would kill him if anything ever happened to Kakashi. He wasn’t surprised that Tsunade didn’t want to return to a place that reminded her of what she had lost. Both Nawaki and Dan had loved the Hidden Leaf dearly. Loyalty to the village and duty were one thing, but her heart needed time to heal. Too many had been lost, Sakumo mused bitterly. His wife had died in the early days of the war, many friends in the years since. He desperately hoped that the Five Great Shinobi Nations could maintain a lasting peace. Kakashi was entering the Academy along with many other children. Would they have to know the horrors of war in the way their parents did? Sakumo hoped not.

* * *

The results of the Academy entrance exams were in and the list for that year’s new class had just been posted. The courtyard outside the Academy was filled with parents and prospective students, all eager to see who’d been accepted. Sakumo waited near the entrance of the courtyard, allowing Kakashi to go check the posted notice board by himself. The boy’s distinctive silver hair made him easy to spot in the crowd. There was no danger here at any rate and no need for Sakumo to hover over him. At five years old and Kakashi was already fiercely independent.

Sakumo leaned with his back against the wall, hands in the front pockets of his pants as he waited. There was no doubt in his mind that Kakashi had been accepted into the Academy. It wasn’t hubris. Kakashi’s skills far surpassed his peers, there was no denying that. Though Sakumo knew from experience that prodigy carried its own burdens. He pushed the thought away as his son returned, looking rather smug.

“You got in, I take it.”

“Of course,” Kakashi’s voice held a note of supreme confidence. It wasn’t arrogance, though he often came across that way. He simply knew what he was capable of. He was well aware of his skills and had not once doubted he’d begin the Academy this year. The entrance exam hadn’t even been hard as far as he was concerned. “The entrance ceremony is in a couple of days and we’ll get the enrollment paperwork there.”

Sakumo knew how it worked already but he didn’t interrupt Kakashi. He knew the boy was excited, even if he had been certain of his acceptance in to the Academy. Kakashi had always been a curious child and he was anxious to begin his formal shinobi training.

“Well then,” he said, pushing off from the wall and walking towards the exit, hand still in his pockets. “Why don’t we stop by that new ramen shop on the way home to celebrate?”

Kakashi grinned up at him. Sakumo smiled and reached out to pat the unruly silver head. Kakashi ducked but Sakumo, anticipating the move, caught him anyway.

“Daaaaad!” it wasn’t _quite_ a whine.

Sakumo’s smile turned into a full-fledged grin. It would do Kakashi good to be reminded that despite his genius, he was still very much still a child, especially to his father.

* * *

A few days later found Sakumo and Kakashi once again walking towards the Leaf’s Ninja Academy.

“Come _on_ , Dad! Let’s go” Kakashi said impatiently.

“There’s no rush. The Academy won’t run away, will it?”

Kakashi scowled up at his father as they walked. He hated being late and didn’t appreciate the teasing about it. Shinobi were supposed to follow the rules and being on time was one of them. The boy failed to remember that his father was rarely late himself and when he was, he always had a good reason for his tardiness.

“There’s a set time to submit entrance applications,” Kakashi stated.

Sakumo, for his part, was amused by his son’s seriousness on the matter. He was glad that Kakashi took his responsibilities as a future shinobi seriously. He never would have begun training him if he didn’t. But he could be entirely too fussy at times. There was a set time that the Academy _began_ accepting entrants. It wouldn’t kill Kakashi to not be there right at that moment. They had most of the day to get his entrance application submitted and squared away. But Sakumo humored him. If Kakashi was dead set on being at the Academy the moment enrollment opened, they’d be at the Academy the moment enrollment opened. It would leave the rest of the day for them to spend together.

A part of Sakumo was still trying to make up for all the time he’d missed out on while away fighting in the last war or out on missions for the village. It was part of life as a shinobi and he knew that intellectually. But his heart hurt that he’d missed so much of Kakashi’s early years. He’d promised his late wife he would always care for and protect their son and he had done so to the best of his ability. Having been just the two of them for as long as Kakashi could remember, they had always been close. Sakumo was glad of that, though he wished Kakashi had some memories of his mother. He had only been four months old when she had died. He’d asked about her once or twice but had never seemed all that interested in knowing much about her. Sakumo had to remind himself that Kakashi wasn’t being insensitive by not showing more interest in his mother. Her absence was his normal and he’d accepted it, never being bothered by only having one parent. It wasn’t that unusual. Being a shinobi was a dangerous profession and many of Kakashi’s friends had lost family members over the years. Sakumo was glad that Kakashi accepted that was how his family was and would remain. He knew that he would never remarry. No other woman would ever be able to hold the place in his heart that Sayomi had. He turned his thoughts to happier subjects. He didn’t need to spoil Kakashi’s excitement by brooding over the past.

As they approached the entrance to the Academy grounds, they came across a dark-haired boy about Kakashi’s age and a man who could only be his father, both wearing identical green bodysuits. Kakashi had seen the boy around a few times though he didn’t know his name or much about him. Only that he’d flunked the Academy entrance exams because apparently the boy couldn’t use ninjutsu or genjutsu at all. Trying to get into the Ninja Academy without being able to utilize even the most basic of ninja skills seemed ridiculous to Kakashi. Why would anyone bother even trying when failure was a foregone conclusion?

Kakashi would have continued walking on by, but his father stopped in front of the pair. _Uh oh_ , Kakashi thought as his father introduced himself and began chatting with the other man. He clearly had no idea the boy had failed the entrance tests. Kakashi cringed inwardly as he informed his father that the other boy couldn’t use ninjutsu and it was pointless for him to even try getting into the Academy, earning himself a reprimand for rudeness. Kakashi preferred to think of it as being honest. Besides, he felt his father had been a whole lot ruder just a minute before. After another few awkward moments, Kakashi managed to get his father moving again by reminding him they were going to be late. They excused themselves and continued towards the Academy. Sakumo stopped before the entryway, crouching down beside Kakashi.

“At the rate that boy is training, he’ll become stronger than you,” he said. He had noticed the signs of intense training the boy exhibited.

“Seriously?” Kakashi muttered, clearly not sharing his father’s opinion.

Sakumo smiled at the disbelief in Kakashi’s voice. He patted his son’s head. “You should ask him his name. And remember it. He’ll be a great rival for you.”

Kakashi didn’t believe it for a minute. He was no fool, however. He knew his father was observant and usually right when assessing someone’s skills.

“Hey! You!” he called after the retreating boy. The other paused and turned back to face him. “Who are you, anyway?”

The boy grinned broadly. “Might Guy!” He said. “I’m going to become stronger than anyone around.”

Kakashi watched, bemused, as the other boy turned back around and continued on his way. _That_ kid was going to be stronger than him? Did his father _really_ think he would make a suitable rival or was he kidding? His father generally didn’t joke about things like that and he’d seemed completely serious about it. Still… He shook his head and continued toward the Academy, putting the matter from his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last scene in front of the Academy was adapted from manga chapter 672 "Night Guy..!" and Shippuden episode 421 "The Sage of Six Paths".


	5. Chapter 5

The Leaf Ninja Academy wasn’t quite what Kakashi had expected. He had been anticipating learning all sorts of new and exciting jutsu. He’d figured he’d learn new techniques and ways to hone his skills, advanced chakra control and genjutsu. He had been looking forward to honing his weapons techniques and taijutsu skills. He had great aim with shuriken and kunai, but his kenjutsu could use some work. His father was a master at kenjutsu and Kakashi was convinced his instructors at the Academy could help him to become just as proficient.

He had not anticipated being bored out of his mind.

His classes consisted of the most basic of shinobi skills; chakra control, low level ninjutsu, and beginning taijutsu sparring. It was nothing he didn’t already know and he was somewhat put out by the simplicity of the curriculum. Even more so by the fact that most of his classmates seemed not to know any of what they were being taught already. He had always known his father was an exceptional shinobi, knew that he was hailed as a genius. He had overheard the adults talking about him, saying that he was a prodigy like his father. It had never occurred to him that his own natural abilities nurtured by his father’s training would place him so far ahead of his peers.

Weapons and taijutsu classes were just as bad if not worse. None of his classmates could touch him during their sparring sessions. If anything, Kakashi was scolded to go easier on the others. He hated being told to hold back; he thought the Academy would be encouraging him to do his best. He threw countless shuriken and kunai, each and every one hitting dead center of their targets. While his classmates were lucky to hit the targets at all. Many a thrown weapon was imbedded in the fence behind the target area or scattered on the ground. They didn’t touch swords, much to his dismay.

He had tried reading during class to keep his mind occupied but had gotten scolded when caught. He scowled at the memory of being chewed out by his instructor in front of everyone. He was being quiet and not disrupting anything. He already knew the jutsu being demonstrated and could perform it flawlessly. Why did he have to sit and pretend to be interested in something he already knew? How was he supposed to learn _anything_ at this rate?

That incident had also led to more confrontation with some of his classmates. They had accused him of being arrogant and thinking he was better than them. He _was_ better than them, at least as far as his ninja skills. Pointing that out hadn’t gone over well. They had jumped him as a group, figuring they could take him down with numbers on their side. He had left them all sitting in the dirt, walking away with a few scrapes and bruises and burning anger.

He had gotten quite the lecture from his father about fighting that night. It was one of the few times Kakashi had ever cried himself to sleep. He was frustrated that no one seemed to care about his point of view and upset at having disappointed his father because of it. After that he had swallowed his pride and resigned himself to pretending to care about relearning the very basics. Kakashi was a bright and curious child who was able to grasp new concepts quickly and easily. As a result, he was easily bored. But he was determined not let his father down again.

As the first few weeks passed and the students and teachers fell into a routine, Kakashi began to realize that his own skills in the shinobi arts were not the norm. And that they far outclassed his classmates. He didn’t know what to do about it other than continue to do his best, earning him admiration from most of his classmates and bitter envy from a small minority. He ignored both. He had no use for flattery. He knew what his skills were and didn’t like others fawning over him. He also paid no mind to those who were jealous. It wasn’t his fault he was more skilled than they were. Yes, he had inherited a certain amount of skill but that didn’t mean he didn’t work very hard and spend countless hours training, working to improve each day. His father didn’t allow him to slack off in his training either, pushing him to his limits each and every time they trained together.

Kakashi had watched his father train his entire life. Even a shinobi with as much natural skill and genius as the White Fang had to continue training in order to keep his skills at their peak. Talent would only take one so far on its own. That talent needed to be nurtured and exercised and challenged in order to truly flourish. Kakashi idolized his father. If a great shinobi like his dad trained hard every day, so would he. The boy resented the implications from some of his classmates that he didn’t work as hard as they did. He probably worked harder.

Kakashi had been surprised to find that Might Guy had indeed been accepted into the Academy as an alternate. In retrospect, he knew he shouldn’t be. His father had been right once again, as usual. The other boy seemed to be having a hard time of it, though. It seemed he could perform some rudimentary ninjutsu but nothing near the level that would be needed for a shinobi. Kakashi observed that Guy spent every free moment training – doing countless push-ups, running laps, even walking around the playground on his hands. He had to give Guy credit – he was stubborn and determined if nothing else. Many of their classmates mocked Guy but inwardly Kakashi applauded his dedication to his training. Maybe his father had been onto something after all.

_They should spend less time running their mouths and more time training themselves,_ Kakashi thought bitterly one particular afternoon. As usual, he had his nose stuck in a book as he walked across the Academy grounds, heading home. Not only did reading keep his mind occupied, Kakashi had found that fewer people bothered him if they thought he was busy. They also tended to forget that he had ears as well as eyes and could hear them just fine despite the book he held. Though at times he wished he didn’t overhear some of what they said. It was the same as always. Variations of how he either didn’t have to work hard because he had inherited all of his skills or some such nonsense. Kakashi walked past as if he hadn’t heard. He refused to let the other students see that their words bothered him at all.

By the time he reached home, he was in a foul mood. He went into the kitchen and found a note from his father on the table. He had been called out for a mission and wouldn’t be home until the following day. Kakashi was disappointed. He had wanted to ask his father to train with him to get his mind off his boredom at the Academy and his classmates’ insulting words. With any luck, he could have talked his father into teaching him a new ninjutsu or a cool new taijutsu move. Swallowing his disappointment, Kakashi headed out to the back yard.

He spent the next several hours hurling weapons at targets, practicing chakra control by walking up trees, and practicing some ninjutsu. The sun was setting when he finally went back inside, tired, but still in a bad mood. Opening the refrigerator, he found that his father had left a meal prepared for him; it just needed to be warmed up. He ate slowly, not really hungry but knowing he’d feel even worse if he didn’t eat. Not to mention he’d earn himself another lecture from his father about it if he found out.

Kakashi had convinced his father that he didn’t need a babysitter while he was away on missions. Sakumo had agreed that Kakashi could stay by himself when he was away for short periods - no more than a night or two for the time being. Part of their agreement was that Kakashi would take proper care of himself while Sakumo was gone. Kakashi was capable of preparing simple meals, cleaning up after himself, putting himself to bed at a reasonable hour, and getting to his classes on time. If Sakumo found out he’d skipped meals, he wouldn’t hesitate to find a sitter. Kakashi had no desire to have anyone fussing over him like he was a toddler.

Clearing his dishes, he washed them in the sink and set them in the rack to dry. He wiped down the table and counter before drawing himself a bath. He was sweat and dirty from his earlier training. The hot water relaxed stiff muscles and helped ease some of his tension. While he was still disappointed that his father wasn’t home, Kakashi was feeling better once he dried himself and pulled on clean pajamas. He checked that the front door was secured and turned the lights out in the rest of the house as he made his way to his bedroom. He left his bedside lamp on as he picked up his book, fully intending on reading a few more chapters before going to sleep.

Five minutes later his book dangling from limp fingers as sleep claimed him. 

* * *

Over the following weeks, Kakashi noticed Guy intensifying his training routine. The other boy was pushing himself to extreme limits. Yet he never gave up, even when he was on the verge of collapse. Kakashi was silently impressed. Maybe his father had been onto something after all when he had predicted that Guy would become stronger than him.

It didn’t take much longer for Kakashi to learn what Guy was up to by increasing his training regimen.

“I challenge you, Kakashi!” Guy cried one afternoon. Kakashi sat on a bench in a park after class, reading as usual.

Kakashi looked up over his book and started involuntarily. Guy’s face was only centimeters from his own.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’m busy. Go away.” He turned back to his book, attempting to block out the other boy’s presence. It was difficult with him still practically in his face.

Guy took a half-step back, folding his arms across his chest. He was well aware he might get hit for this, but it would be worth it if it got Kakashi to fight him. “I never thought that the son of the White Fang would be a coward.”

Kakashi looked up from his book, eyes burning. “What did you say?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“Nothing,” Guy tried to appear nonchalant. “Just that I didn’t think you of all people would be afraid of a challenge.”

Kakashi’s eye twitched. He snapped his book closed as he got to his feet. “Fine.”

Guy beamed, seemingly oblivious to the danger he had just put himself in. “Excellent! We’ll pit our skills against one another in hot blooded battle, putting our youth on the line!”

“We’ll what?” Kakashi simply looked at Guy, bemused, as he followed the other to an empty training field.

“What should we start with?” Guy asked.

“I don’t care. Let’s just get this over with.”

Guy didn’t let Kakashi’s lack of enthusiasm get to him. If anything, it made him all the more determined. He had long been fascinated by the quiet and aloof silver-haired boy. He had heard tales about the White Fang, of his genius and skill. To pit himself against his son would be a true test of his own abilities. Kakashi offered a challenge like no other and Guy was giddy with excitement at the prospect of going head to head with him.

Guy’s enthusiasm never waned, even as Kakashi soundly defeated him at each challenge. Even taijutsu. “You really are a prodigy,” Guy gasped, taking several gulps of water.

“Are we through?” Kakashi asked crossly.

“No! I’m not finished challenging you! You’re my eternal rival!”

Kakashi sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’ve beaten you in every challenge. You can barely stand. What more do you want?” he asked, exasperated. He didn’t admit out loud that their taijutsu match had been a near thing. Guy was very, very good at taijutsu. Kakashi had barely been able to hold his own and had only won because of his ability to use ninjutsu in conjunction with his taijutsu. A substitution jutsu had been the only thing that had saved him from a broken nose and had given him the precious seconds needed to get the drop on Guy.

Guy got to his feet and issued his next challenge.

“You’re insane,” Kakashi muttered. _And so am I for going along with this!_ Guy simply grinned at him as he brought a hand back, fist clenched. Kakashi shook his head as he did the same.

“Rock, paper, scissors!” they chorused.

* * *

Kakashi sat scowling down at his toes. He sucked on his split lip absently. He ignored the handful of other students who shared the room with him. Classes had ended for the day and everyone else had left the Academy except for the handful of students who now sat in detention. A group of older students had caught Kakashi at the end of the day, taunting him. He had ignored them until one had pushed him. Then he’d fought back. Because they were still on school grounds and classes had barely been dismissed, the entire group had been hauled into detention. Kakashi hadn’t even been given a chance to defend his actions.

“This is your fault, Hatake!” one of the students hissed.

“That your taijutsu skills are pathetic and your ninjutsu’s not much better? Hardly,” Kakashi replied.

“Little brat! I’ll pound you –“

Kakashi glanced at the speaker out of the corner of his eye, not deigning to give him his full attention. “Not unless you’ve improved significantly in the past hour,” he replied coldly.

“That’s enough!” the upper-classmen instructor – already put out at having to stay late to chaperone detention – snapped. “You all have work to do.” He scowled at the youngest boy who was simply sitting at his desk, not writing or even holding a pencil. “That includes you.”

“I’m finished,” Kakashi said.

Frowning, the instructor picked up his paper and scanned it. What the boy said was true, he had completed the work. Correctly, too, from the looks of it. He had given the younger boy the same assignment as the older ones. If the boy was old enough to throw the first punch, he was old enough to struggle through the more difficult work. Maybe it would teach him he still had a lot to learn about being a shinobi. Yet here he was, the first one finished.

He eyed Kakashi for a moment. He’d heard that the son of the legendary White Fang had started the Academy this year. He was the only one who had finished the assignment, despite its difficulty. There was no way he could have cheated. Other than a split lip, a few bruises, and being covered in dirt, he’d managed to hold his own against a group of much larger opponents.

_This is the White Fang’s kid, is it? He’s got his father’s talent and brains. He needs to learn when to use the latter more, though._

“Fine, off you go, then,” he said, dismissing Kakashi. He glanced at the clock on the wall as Kakashi closed the door on his way out of the classroom. He’d give it another half-hour before letting the rest of them go.

* * *

Sakumo was in an unusually somber mood as he walked through the streets. He had just come from a meeting with the Hokage regarding his next assignment. He was to lead a team deep into enemy territory. The mission looked to be one of the most dangerous and difficult he’d ever gone on. He had a feeling of foreboding about the entire thing.

He shook his head, annoyed with himself, sending his pony-tail swinging from side to side. He was acting like a rank genin, worried about his first mission, He had carried out dozens of difficult assignments over the years. There were few jonin of his level and he had more than his share of “S” and higher ranked missions under his belt. This would simply be one more. Yet the feeling that _something_ was wrong persisted, sending him into a deeper funk. Sakumo was not normally one to brood, but he was having a hard time shaking his unease. He trusted his gut and it was telling him something was about to go horribly wrong, despite no evidence of such a thing about to occur.

He cast a glance up at the rapidly darkening sky. A storm was rolling in. _Just what I need right now,_ he thought. _Hopefully at least the worst of it’ll pass before morning._

His thoughts were interrupted as a man appeared at his elbow. “Excuse me,” he said. “You’re Sakumo Hatake?”

Sakumo stopped walking and turned to fully face the other. “I am,” he replied.

“I’m one of the upper-classmen instructors at the Academy.” That explained why Sakumo didn’t recognize him – he wasn’t Kakashi’s instructor. He continued. “There was an… incident… today that you should be aware of. Kakashi was involved in a fight with several other students.”

Sakumo frowned. Kakashi had some trouble at the Academy during his first few weeks, but after he’d spoken with him, it seemed to have stopped. He was displeased to hear Kakashi was involved in fighting again. “Was anyone hurt?” he asked. He doubted Kakashi was seriously injured but he couldn’t vouch for the condition of the others.

“Nothing too serious. Though I’m certain you understand the seriousness of brawling on school grounds outside of authorized matches.”

Sakumo nodded grimly. “I am. I’ll speak with Kakashi about his behavior. If you’ll excuse me, I’m afraid I have a mission to prepare for this evening as well.”

“Of course.”

Sakumo continued towards home, wondering what had gotten into Kakashi. His son had said he wanted to be a shinobi since he could talk. Yet his actions didn’t fit with his stated desire. Sakumo wondered if attending the Academy was really what Kakashi wanted. Maybe his son had only said that because he thought Sakumo wanted him to become a ninja. Or because he didn’t know he had other options. He sighed and pressed his thumb and forefinger against the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes briefly. This was the worst possible time for Kakashi to be in trouble at school. Sakumo had to get an early start tomorrow and had a lot to do before them. But this needed to be addressed sooner rather than later and who knew how long he’d be away from the village this time. He wondered if he shouldn’t arrange for someone to stay with Kakashi while he was away though he’d been letting him stay home alone until now. It was just one more thing he’d have to do but if his son was getting into trouble perhaps it would be for the best.

Letting out his breath in a frustrated huff, Sakumo turned down the path that led to his home. _One thing at a time,_ he reminded himself. _I’ll see what Kakashi has to say for himself, then I’ll decide what to do._


	6. Chapter 6

Kakashi hated disappointing his father. His stomach churned as he stood with his head bowed, not wanting to see the disappointment on his father’s face. Hot tears welled up in his eyes. He blinked them away from behind the silver bangs that fell forward over his eyes, forcing them down through sheer force of will. He would not cry. Shinobi didn’t cry. He wouldn’t disappoint his father any further.

His father sighed heavily. “Kakashi, what had gotten into you recently? I thought you _wanted_ to attend the Academy? Yet I keep getting reports that you’re not paying attention in your classes. Even that you’re fighting with the other students.”

“They started it,” slipped out before he could stop it. He clamped his teeth down on his lower lip so he couldn’t say anything else as his father’s expression darkened.

“Kakashi –“ He flinched inwardly at the anger in his father’s tone. Sakumo had never struck him and he knew that his father would never harm him but he’d also never been this angry with him before. Kakashi didn’t know what to do. Nobody was listening to him. He was frustrated and frightened. He swallowed hard as his father continued. “Tuition for the Academy isn’t cheap. If you don’t want to attend, perhaps I should pull you out –“;

“No!” Kakashi cried, horrified at the idea. If his father forced him to quit attending the Academy he could never become a shinobi. What would he do then? Being a great shinobi like his father was all he had ever wanted. It would crush him to have that dream yanked away from him.

“Then I expect to not receive any more reports about you not paying attention in class or fighting. You told me you wanted to apply to the Academy this year. You convinced me you were mature enough to stay home alone while I was on missions. I had thought we were past this type of trouble after your first few weeks. I made allowances for you having difficulty adjusting to the new routine at the Academy. But after this amount of time… I’m beginning to think I may have been wrong in allowing it. I have to leave for a mission in the morning, one that will keep me away from the village for several weeks. You’ve been asking to stay alone for longer periods of time. I’m wondering if I should be looking for someone to stay with you.” His gaze sharpened. “Or can I trust that you can stay out of trouble until I get back?”

Kakashi wanted to cry in despair as he bowed his head again. He couldn’t help what was going on. He was bored. He tried to pay attention but it was difficult to keep his mind from wandering when he wasn’t learning _anything_. He didn’t go out of his way to start fights but the other students wouldn’t leave him alone. And worst of all, no one seemed to care. Not one person listened when he tried to explain.

“Kakashi?” Sakumo prompted as his son remained silent. He expected an answer.

The disappointment in his father’s voice cut the deepest of all, an almost physical pain. The tears he had been desperately holding back finally slipped free at the thought of losing his father’s trust. He wanted his father to be proud of him yet everything kept going terribly, horribly, undeniably _wrong._

“It’s not my fault!” Kakashi shouted, his control finally snapping.

“Ka –“

“No! Nobody will _listen_ to me! All everybody does is yell at me! The instructors, even you!” He raised his face, his expression defiant despite the tears that streamed down his cheeks. “Nobody cares!” he howled. Knowing that he had crossed the line, he felt fear rise up within him. His body reflexively going into fight or flight mode, he ran, knowing he could never hope to win against his father in a fight.

A storm was raging outside. Rain fell in torrents, wind whipped through the trees, bending even the mightiest of them. Lightning lit up the sky in brief flashes and thunder boomed. Kakashi didn’t pay any heed as he fled. He desperately needed to get _away_. He plunged headlong into the storm, disappearing almost instantly from view.

Sakumo frowned, silver brows drawing together as he went to the door that Kakashi had left open when he had fled. Kakashi had never been a child who threw tantrums. His behavior was unusual and concerned his father greatly. “Dammit,” he muttered as he pulled his sandals on and headed out into the pouring rain after his son. The last thing he wanted was to have to track down and drag home a cranky five-year old during a storm. He had to leave early for an extremely difficult mission in the morning; he didn’t have time for this. But it wasn’t safe for Kakashi to be out in this weather.

“Dammit!” he swore again as he was instantly drenched the moment he stepped out the front door. There was no sign of Kakashi anywhere. The torrential rains made it impossible to see more than a few feet in front of him. Even his summoned ninja hounds would be no use in this – any trace of scent would be washed away instantly. He splashed through puddles as he hurried along, heading for the areas Kakashi tended to frequent, hoping to find the boy quickly.

The streets and pathways of the village were deserted. The heavy rains, furious winds, and plummeting temperatures driving everyone indoors. Sakumo ducked his head against the needle-like rain drops, shielding his eyes with one hand as he tried in vain to catch sight of his son. He pushed his sopping hair back irritably as it plastered over his forehead and into his eyes. He shivered; it was cold and he was already soaked through.

_What the hell is Kakashi thinking, running out in this?!_ Worry was beginning to overshadow his anger. Kakashi was normally a level-headed boy. If he was upset enough to run, then something more serious than a normal child’s tantrum was going on.

A large tree limb fell, narrowly missing him. The storm was picking up in intensity. Sakumo felt his earlier irritation melting completely away only to turn to dread. It was getting too dangerous out here, even for someone of Kakashi’s skill. Being a talented shinobi wouldn’t protect him against the raw power of nature herself.

_He wouldn’t have been so foolish as to leave the village,_ Sakumo thought as he failed to find Kakashi in any of the spots he had checked. _Not in this!_ He mentally retraced his steps, making certain he had not overlooked anyplace Kakashi might have run off to. _Would he have gone to a friend’s house?_ Sakumo didn’t think so, though anything was possible. Kakashi tended to be a loner and Sakumo knew from experience he was more likely to withdraw from others when upset than confide in them. _Kakashi spends a lot of time training in the Back Hills. That’s the only place left I can think of that he’d go. To go out there in this, though… What had gotten into him?_

Sakumo blew out a frustrated breath as he picked up his pace. The feeling of foreboding that had been hanging over him since the Hokage had assigned him his latest mission intensified. He’d been assigned difficult and dangerous missions before but he’d been unable to shake the feeling of unease about this one. Perhaps it had made him a bit short-tempered with Kakashi, he thought guiltily. He’d already been on edge when the Academy instructor had told him about Kakashi’s fighting. Maybe it had caused him to blow the incident out of proportion. No, he reprimanded himself sharply, recalling Kakashi’s words that no one listened to him, he had _definitely_ blown things out of proportion. Guilt began to gnaw at his heart along with worry. It was his fault his son had run out into this, placing himself in danger. Sakumo would never forgive himself if anything happened to Kakashi.

_Please let Kakashi be safe!_ Sakumo pleaded silently to any deity that might be listening. _Sayomi, watch over our boy!_ A knot of dread twisted in his stomach. The Back Hills was littered with traps and pitfalls. Most Leaf shinobi who trained there knew the locations of them and how to avoid them. But it was dark and with the rain and wind, visibility was zero. It would be all too easy for a young child to stray from the paths and lose his bearings or mistake the location of a trap and trip it accidently. Many of the traps were designed to capture any who would attempt to sneak around or spy upon the village. Not all were so benign. There were still plenty of traps that could main or kill. Sakumo forced the thought down ruthlessly. He had to stay focused on finding Kakashi, not imagining what could have happened to him.

* * *

It was some time later when Sakumo finally found Kakashi, huddled beneath a large tree. Any of his lingering anger evaporated instantly upon finding his son safe. He was sure it would return later. But right now his priority was getting Kakashi inside, dry, and warm.

“D-d-dad?” The boy was shivering violently. He looked terrified but unharmed.

“Are you alright?” Sakumo shouted to be heard above the raging storm as he knelt in the mud beside his son.

Kakashi nodded. “I – I d-d-don’t k-k-know w-w-w-hich w-way’s h-h-home,” he stuttered, his teeth chattering.

Sakumo scooped Kakashi up into his arms, holding him tightly for a moment, then settling him on his back. Small arms wrapped around his neck as he rested his cheek against his shoulder. He took a moment to try to orient himself. It was no good. It was too dark to see anything and he wasn’t certain exactly where they were or even which direction he had come from. He was not about to tell Kakashi that, however. The boy was frightened enough as it was. Sakumo picked a direction that he thought led back to the village proper and began walking. Even if he was going the wrong way, eventually they’d come across a landmark.

Surely, they couldn’t be _that_ far from the village proper, Sakumo mused. They’d be home soon enough. And then he was going to get to the bottom of Kakashi’s behavior. It was unlike the boy to take off in a fit of pique and he wanted to know what had caused it in this case. And apologize for his own short-temper, he added silently. Right now, in the middle of a storm, was not the time, however.

Suddenly, the ground gave way beneath his feet. With a curse and a burst of chakra, he attempted to jump back to solid ground. It was no good, the entire area - weakened by the sudden torrent - had broken loose. They began to fall, hitting the ground hard and tumbling down a steep slope. The unexpected motion dislodged Kakashi from his perch on his father’s back. It was only his lightening quick reflexes that allowed Sakumo to snag the back of Kakashi’s collar and pull him against his chest, shielding him as best he could with his own body as they rolled in their uncontrolled descent.

After what seemed an eternity but couldn’t have been more than a few seconds at most, they came to a sudden halt. Sakumo felt agony flare in his left leg at the force with which his momentum was stopped by it impacting the earth. He had landed in an awkward position, all of his weigh had come down on the one leg twisted beneath him. Breathing heavily, he managed to carefully roll off the injured limb and back into a sitting position without shifting it too much in the process. He’d broken out in a cold sweat, making him even more uncomfortable. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth against the pain as he took stock of their situation.

He was battered and bruised and was certain he’d be feeling it later. His shoulder ached and his head throbbed dully. His leg was definitely broken, he didn’t need to be a medical ninja to tell that much. That was among the least of his worries at the moment. Kakashi was limp and unresponsive in his arms. He pulled the mask from Kakashi’s face and leaned in close. Relief flooded him as he felt warm breath on his cheek. A quick check assured him that his son seemed relatively unharmed. His breathing was steady and his pulse was strong. Sakumo couldn’t find any indication of broken bones; he was in no immediate danger.

In spite of the howling wind, Sakumo could hear the churning rush of water nearby. They must be very close to the river. It was dumb luck they hadn’t fallen into the river itself. And damn lucky. After this storm, it would have meant certain death as the waters surged, swollen from the heavy rain and made even more treacherous from extra debris being carried by the strong current. At least, he mused ruefully, he knew where they were now. Not that the knowledge did them a whole lot of good if he couldn’t get them back to the village.

Sakumo considered his options. There was no way he could walk. Even if he could splint his broken leg, he’d be unable to carry his son and leaving him behind wasn’t an option. There was nothing in the immediate area he could use as a crutch, either. They could attempt to wait until a search party found them. When he didn’t show up for his assignment, someone was sure to come looking. That wouldn’t be until the following morning at least and it was just after nightfall. It was cold and there was no shelter. He also had no idea how badly Kakashi was hurt. He couldn’t risk waiting that long.

Biting the pad of his thumb, he wove the proper hand signs and placed his hand on the ground. A moment later a large, shaggy white dog appeared. “I really hope there’s a good reason for dragging me out in this,” Taro, his summoned ninja hound said, his tone disgruntled as he was instantly drenched.

Sakumo bit back a sarcastic response. He was in pain and didn’t have the energy to argue with his summoning. He got right to the point. “I need you to go back to the village and bring back help. Follow the river, it’ll lead you back.”

The hound seemed to notice their disheveled condition for the first time. He nosed at Kakashi’s limp hand. “What happened?”

“The ground gave way at the top of the hill. My damn leg’s broken and I have no idea how badly Kakashi’s hurt. Just hurry. Please.”

“On it!” The hound took off into the pouring rain.

As Taro’s large white form disappeared from view, Sakumo gathered Kakashi to him, cradling his son against his chest. He hunched over despite the protests from his battered body, trying to shield him as much as possible from the pelting rain and lend him what warmth he could. He hoped help arrived soon.

* * *

The feeling of someone trying to pull Kakashi away from him roused Sakumo. He hadn’t even realized he’d been slipping in and out of consciousness for the past half hour, the cold and the shock of his injuries were taking their toll. Reflexively, he clung to his son, clutching the small limp body to him as if his life depended on it.

“Sakumo!” someone shouted in his ear to be heard over the howling wind. “Let us take Kakashi! We need to get both of you to the hospital right away!”

“Kakashi…” he murmured. His mind felt slow and sluggish. “He’s hurt…”

“We know. Come on, now. Let him go so we can treat him. We’ve got to get both of you out of this weather!”

It took the medical ninja a few more moments to convince the dazed man to release the boy he clung to so possessively. Without knowing the nature and extent of the boy’s injuries, they couldn’t risk trying to take him by force. Finally seeming to recognize them, Sakumo allowed them to take Kakashi from him. His head fell back and he closed his eyes, allowing blackness to claim him.


	7. Chapter 7

The sharp, pungent scent of disinfectant burning his sensitive nose was the first thing Sakumo became aware of. He felt strangely numb and disconnected. He tried to concentrate, to figure out where he was and how he had gotten here. It was hard to focus, his mind felt slow and sluggish. There were muted sounds, footsteps, voices. Without more context, they didn’t make any sense. He couldn’t make out any words that were being spoken, they were muffled as if the speakers were in the next room. With a supreme effort, he managed to open his eyes. Everything was a blur. He blinked and brought one hand up to rub them. It hurt when he moved his shoulder, though the pain felt strangely distant.

Trying again, he managed to focus on the plain white ceiling above him. His brow furrowed. Why was it so hard to think? Slowly, very slowly, things began to come into focus. He was laying on his back in a bed that was definitely not his own. He ached but in a muted and distant way. _Painkillers_ , the thought scurried through his brain, then out again before he could properly process it. He flexed his fingers, and took a mental inventory, assuring himself that all of his limbs were present and in more or less working order. His left leg felt as it was elevated and he couldn’t seem to move it but he was fairly certain it was still attached. He wasn’t up to attempting to raise his head to look just yet. It nagged at his; something about that was important.

_What happened? Where am I?_ The effort it took to form even those thoughts coherently was taxing. He was having trouble staying focused for more than a handful of moments at a time. The ceiling above him offered no answers. He closed his eyes with a heavy sigh and reopened them, hoping things would suddenly make more sense. He disliked this slow, sluggish feeling.

His fuzzy brain was trying to decide if it was worth the effort to attempt moving in order to get more information when he heard footsteps approaching. They didn’t continue past, but stopped beside him, and a voice spoke. “Ah, you’re awake, I see.”

Sakumo grunted noncommittally. He wasn’t entirely certain _awake_ was an appropriate term for it. His dark eyes turned to the speaker. A slender, bespectacled man dressed as a medic. _I’m at the hospital? What happened? Did the mission go badly? Wait, did I ever go?_ Thinking was difficult. He couldn’t seem to hold a thought. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t recall a single detail about the mission. His memory was jumbled and he couldn’t seem to remember what had landed him here. He felt a sense of urgency. This was _important._

“What happened?” he managed to get out past the dryness in his throat. It came out a hoarse croak but the other man apparently understood.

“You took a pretty nasty tumble down the hillside from what I hear. Looks like you got caught in a landslide. Your left leg is broken. It’s going to require more surgery and then physical therapy before it fully heals. You’re going to have to take it easy for a while – no walking unaided until you’ve strengthened it again. But the good news is that I don’t see any reason that it won’t heal completely. So long as you don’t try overdoing it too soon,” he reiterated sternly. He knew full well how shinobi – especially the jonin - could get. Anxious to return to duty, they’d push themselves past prescribed limits, only to end up back in his care in worse shape than before. He continued. “Apart from that, you got banged up pretty badly in the fall. You’ve got some lacerations, bruises, and a concussion. You have a fairly deep gash in your shoulder. Don’t try moving it too much or you’ll tear out the stiches. I have you on painkillers at the moment so you can rest. Be careful or you could end up exacerbating your injuries and not realize it.”

_Landslide? Fall?_

Sakumo sat up abruptly as his memory returned and he remembered just how he’d come to end up in this state. He ignored the much more present pain and wave of nausea caused by the sudden motion. “Kakashi?!” he gasped, near panic. He swallowed hard, trying to keep from vomiting – from pain, dizziness, or sheer panic, he didn’t know. “Where’s Kakashi?! What happened to my son!?”

“He’s fine!” the medic assured him quickly, placing a hand on his uninjured shoulder and gently yet firmly pushing him back down. Sakumo didn’t resist, though he cursed his present condition as he screwed his eyes shut and concentrated on taking several deep breaths. The dizziness passed and the nausea eased. He reopened his eyes and noticed that the medic had adjusted the bed so his head and upper body were slightly raised.

The other man inclined his head to one side. Sakumo’s gaze followed the line until he saw what he was indicating. Kakashi was sitting in a chair in the far corner of the room. His legs were drawn up to his chest with his arms wrapped around them and he was watching Sakumo over the tops of his knees with solemn grey eyes. There were bruises on his cheek and arms and a bandage was tied tightly around his head.

“He hit his head in the fall and has a mild concussion and some bumps and bruises, but he’s otherwise just fine. He can go home in a few days.”

“Kakashi,” Sakumo breathed softly, relief flooding through him. Tension he didn’t even realize he’d been feeling drained away at the sight of his son safe and relatively unharmed. He barely heard the medic taking his leave as he took stock of his own situation. His broken leg had been set and was in a sheathed in a bulky cast up to his knee and was currently being held in an elevated position by a series of slings and pulleys. Mindful of his injured shoulder, he reached up with his good hand to rub at an ache on the back of his head, wincing as he felt the knot on the back of his skull. He frowned slightly as his fingers tangled in his hair. It was hanging loose down his back. He made a mental note to ask someone for something to tie it back; he hated it down. He turned his attention back to his son. Kakashi hadn’t moved or spoken. “Kakashi?”

After another long minute of silence, the boy uncurled and got to his feet. He was clad in light grey hospital issue pajamas that were somewhat too large on him. He padded silently over to the side of the bed on bare feet, Seeing the uncertainty in dark eyes that stared up at him, Sakumo shifted over as far as his elevated leg would allow. Kakashi climbed up beside him, snuggling against his side as he wrapped one arm around him.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” he whimpered in a small voice.

“It’s okay.” He ran his hand through his son’s unruly silver hair. “You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

He heard Kakashi’s breath hitch in his chest, felt the small body trembling with suppressed emotion. Kakashi buried his face into Sakumo’s side, crying silently. Sakumo didn’t say a word, simply continued to stroke the boy’s hair, allowing him the release of emotion he so desperately needed. He needed to get to the bottom of whatever was bothering his son as soon as possible. For now, it could wait. Kakashi was unharmed and that was all he cared about at the moment. Sakumo closed his eyes as he held his son close, forcing aside thought of what could have happened, simply focusing on the here and now.

* * *

The medic returned a half hour later to find father and son both sound asleep. The boy’s face was splotchy from crying. He fetched another blanket and tucked it around the small boy, leaving him to sleep in his father’s arms. They both needed the rest and after his fright, the child needed to feel secure. He’d been concerned for the boy. He hadn’t spoken a word other than to answer direct questions. Even then it had been mostly single word answers spoken in a flat monotone. Ignoring the protests of the medics, the boy had gotten out of bed, walked down the hall to his father’s room, and refused to budge from the chair in which he planted himself. Whatever had happened to lead to their injuries had clearly upset him. Now it appeared that the emotional injuries could heal as well as the physical. Making a few brief notes on his clipboard, he left the room quietly, leaving them to their rest.

* * *

A few days later, Kakashi was discharged from the hospital. Other than some of the more serious bruises and the cut that ran along his hairline, his injuries were healed. On his father’s insistence, he returned to his classes at the Academy during the day. At night, he came back to spend it at his father’s side. Sakumo didn’t forbid him. It had been just the two of them ever since Sayomi had died when Kakashi had been just an infant and they were close. If it comforted Kakashi to stay here instead of alone at the house, he wouldn’t say no.

It was all too easy to forget that Kakashi was still only five years old. He acted so much older most of the time. But he was still a young child who needed his father’s comfort after a bad fright. Sakumo had always been open with his affection for his only child. He wanted him to grow up secure in his parent’s love. He’d deal with the stiffness in his muscles the following morning when Kakashi chose to climb up onto the narrow hospital bed to sleep in his arms. His son needed to feel safe. Everything else was secondary to Sakumo in the face of Kakashi’s need, especially his own comfort.

Sakumo was glad to see Kakashi acting like the child he still very much was, in spite of the circumstances. It was a rarity these days. Kakashi tended to be a serious child, often acting much older than his five tender years. He was growing up much too fast for Sakumo’s taste. It couldn’t all be due to his abilities. He didn’t recall being so serious when he was Kakashi’s age. But it was who his son was, like it or not.

Kakashi was still a bit subdued but Sakumo didn’t push him to talk. Right now his son needed to be allowed to be a child, to seek comfort and not have to explain himself. That could wait until he was over his shock and fear. Sakumo could tell that Kakashi was shaken by what had happened and was struggling to process it. They both could have died in their harried fall. That a broken bone and some minor injuries was the worst of it was truly a miracle in and of itself.

* * *

Kakashi walked alone thought the streets of the Hidden Leaf Village without a destination in mind. Classes had been dismissed for the day and he had nowhere to go. Several of the other children were going to play in the park and had invited him along to join in their games. He had brushed them off, saying the medics wouldn’t allow so much activity yet. It wasn’t _exactly_ a lie. He had been discharged but was still supposed to take it easy for a bit. He left the ‘a bit’ part intentionally vague. He didn’t feel like playing today.

He didn’t want to go home. The house seemed big and empty and lonely right now. He wanted to see his father. The medical ninja should have performed the final surgery needed to finish repairing his broken leg today. Kakashi couldn’t bring himself to go to the hospital. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but seeing his father hurt had shaken him badly. His father was always so strong and dependable – he always came back from his missions and always made things right. Kakashi was haunted by the image of seeing his father unconscious, his face pinched and pale, dark bruises showing lividly against his skin. His confusion upon awakening was understandable but terrifying at the same time. His movements were slow and cautious so as not to aggravate his wounds, not steady and fluid as Kakashi was used to seeing.

Kakashi had watched the first time his father had put his weight on his broken leg for physical therapy. Sakumo had refused painkillers, stating he didn’t like the way they made him feel sluggish and stupid. Though he was smiled reassuringly at Kakashi, he’s still seen the pain his father was in. his face had paled and his jaw set and his breathing had been short and ragged. The session had exhausted him and he’d collapsed into a deep sleep almost as soon as it was over. Kakashi didn’t think he could handle seeing his father so soon after surgery. He knew his father was trying to hide his own pain from him and that made it even worse.

Kakashi knew it was his fault for running off. His guilt was threatening to choke him. His father had assured him it was been an accident and it wasn’t his fault but Kakashi knew better. Sakumo had missed out on an important mission and it was all Kakashi’s fault. He wiped the tears that welled up in his eyes away angrily. He had no right to cry.

“Hey, Kakashi!” a familiar voice pulled him out of her reverie. He refused to think of it was _brooding._ Or worse, _sulking._

“What do you want, Obito?” he asked wearily. He wasn’t in the mood to listen to Obito’s sniping at him today, telling him how he was going to surpass him and how great his Sharingan was going to be once it awakened. He just wanted his father to be better. Barring that, he wanted to be left alone, not get pulled into Obito’s one-sided rivalry with him.

“You look terrible. Is something wrong?” Obito fell into step beside Kakashi, giving him a concerned look as he pushed his goggles up onto his forehead. Kakashi being anti-social was hardly anything new. Obito sensed this was different. He knew the other boy had recently been hurt; he’d missed several days of classes due to being in the hospital and had still looked rather battered when he’d returned. It didn’t explain the strangely vacant look in his eye and the way he seemed to be folded in on himself. For all his competing and determination to surpass Kakashi, Obito was a kind-hearted boy. Kakashi seemed to be retreating even more than normal and it concerned him.

“Nothing,” Kakashi said shortly.

Obito rolled his eyes. The brusque answer was just what he had expected. _Arrogant jerk!_ “Does it have something to do with why you missed classes?”

If he hadn’t been watching Kakashi so intently, he would have missed the tiny flinch at his words. A look of almost panic flashed across his face, gone before Obito had even realized it was there. He didn’t answer and his silence spoke volumes. His brow furrowed and his face pulled down into a fierce frown as he continued on as if he hadn’t just nearly stumbled over his own feet. Obito’s concern shifted towards worry. Bored indifference was Kakashi’s default setting. This looked almost like… fear.

Obito knew he was risking the loss of a limb, but the risk was worth it. He reached out and put a hand on Kakashi’s shoulder, shocked by the tension that ran through the other. “Hey,” he said softly. “What’s wrong?”

Kakashi stopped walking and turned to face Obito, intending to snap at him to go away and leave him alone. His glare had no real heat behind it, however, as he looked into Obito’s face. In spite of all the verbal and physical sparring they did, all the insults they traded, Kakashi couldn’t see anything other than genuine concern in Obito’s expression. Obito didn’t possess nearly enough guile to fake such a thing.

“My dad’s hurt.” The words were past his lips before he realized it.

“Oh. He’s gonna be okay, though, right?”

Kakashi nodded. “Eventually. He broke his leg and got pretty banged up. He missed a really important mission. It’s my fault.” His tone was bitter with self-recrimination.

Obito frowned slightly. He was fairly certain Kakashi’s father was a jonin-level shinobi. Kakashi may be well on his way to becoming a skilled shinobi but he was still only five years old. He couldn’t imagine the other boy could have possibly done anything to cause serious injury to someone of that level.

“Yeah, right,” Obito scoffed. “You’re not _that_ good!”

Kakashi jerked away from him. “It wasn’t on purpose!” he nearly shouted.

“I never said it was!” Obito retorted. “You’re an Academy student. I thought your dad was supposed to be a jonin or something. Some jonin he is if he can get beaten by a brat like you!”

Kakashi’s eye twitched and Obito was certain that the other was about to hit him. He had been trying to provoke a reaction and was beginning to think he may have taken things just a step too far. Instead of punching him, Kakashi simply turned away. “You don’t know anything,” he muttered as he started walking again.

Obito stared at Kakashi’s retreating back, stunned. Something was _definitely_ wrong. He hurried to catch up. He remained silent as they walked. Kakashi gave no indication he was even aware that Obito was there, though Obito knew better. Kakashi was observant if nothing else. If he was determined to ignore him, Obito was just as determined to get to the bottom of whatever was bothering him.

After several minutes, Obito began to suspect that Kakashi had no clear destination in mind. He seemed to be wandering aimlessly, going whichever way his feet took him. Before long they had left the busting crowds of the central village behind in favor of less crowded and hectic avenues. It wasn’t the way to the hospital and it wasn’t the direction Kakashi normally headed when going home.

Obito decided to try a different approach. “Hey, where are you going anyway?” he asked. Kakashi raised one shoulder slightly in a half-shrug. It was a half-shrug more than Obito had expected. “Aren’t you going to see your dad?”

This time there was no mistaking Kakashi’s flinch. “No.” He couldn’t quite manage to keep the faint tremor from his voice.

Obito stopped, grabbing Kakashi’s arm and spinning the other boy to face him. He put his hands on Kakashi’s shoulders, looking him in the eye. “Stop being such a prick, Kakashi, and talk to me! You have friends, you know! This is what friends do – they’re here for one another!”

Kakashi simply started at Obito for a long moment. He had always been a loner and he knew his father wished he’d socialize more with his peers. Sakumo was easy-going and friendly by nature. In spite of his tremendous power as a shinobi, he was down to earth, humble, and kind. He was well-liked and had many friends. People were naturally drawn to his charisma and easy smile. Kakashi tended to be rather blunt when speaking, often coming across as cold or arrogant, even if that wasn’t his intent. He didn’t understand the point of small-talk and was often uncomfortable around others so he hid his discomfort behind a mask of indifference.

“That doctors performed the last surgery to fix his leg today,” Kakashi said slowly. His gaze was firmly on the ground and his hands were stuffed into his front pockets. “He’ll probably be out for a while. I – I don’t like seeing him like that.” He clenched his jaw, waiting for Obito to ridicule him.

“Oh,” Obito said softly, his tone sympathetic. He considered for a moment. “Why don’t you come hang out at my place. I’m sure Grandma won’t mind.” Kakashi raised his gaze, staring at Obito in surprise. Obito grinned at him. “Come on. It’ll be better than walking around sulking.”

“I’m not sulking!” he protested reflexively.

“Uh huh. Sure, whatever.” He threw an arm around Kakashi’s shoulders and began walking, steering them towards the Uchiha District.

Kakashi tried half-heartedly to pull away but the other boy’s grip was firm. Bemused, he allowed himself to be steered through the streets. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Obito’s cheerful smile.

_Did I just make a friend?_


	8. Chapter 8

A week later, Kakashi walked into the bright sunshine with his classmates at the end of the day. The students immediately began dispersing, singly and in small groups. Blinking against the glare, Kakashi caught sight of a familiar tall figure waiting beneath a tree in the courtyard.

“Dad!” Kakashi cried, surprised and delighted. He hadn’t known his father was being released from the Leaf Hospital yet. But here he was, leaning casually against the tree rather than crutches, his hands stuffed into his front pockets as if he hadn’t a care in the world. He ran over to his father, who smiled upon seeing him. Kakashi was still feeling a bit of guilt regarding his father’s injuries. If he hadn’t gone running off into the storm, his father never would have followed him and none of this would have ever happened. He knew his father had missed out on an important mission due to his injuries. Probably more than one. “What are you doing here?”

“I managed to escape with the promise of good behavior,” he said dryly. “I thought I’d stop by on my way home and we could walk together. The Academy is on the way and I knew it was near time for class to let out for the day.”

“They got tired of you sulking and kicked you out,” Kakashi snickered.

“I do _not_ sulk,” Sakumo protested, affronted.

Kakashi snorted and muttered under his breath, “I’ll remember that the next time you’re sick.” It was quiet enough they could both pretend he hadn’t said anything. Sakumo glared though there was no heat behind the look. Kakashi gave him a look of wide-eyed innocence. Sakumo shook his head, chuckling softly. It was the exact same look he had used not an hour before on the pretty medic to convince her to let him go home. He was certain he’d have gone mad if he’d had to remain at the hospital another minute. The forced inactivity was killing him. He understood not stressing the leg until it fully healed but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Hey, Kakashi!” Obito cried as he jogged over to him. “Are we still on for – oh!” He broke off as he realized the other boy wasn’t alone. Even though he’d never gotten a clear look at Kakashi’s face, the resemblance between him and his father was still obvious and striking. He shook off his surprise and grinned. “I suppose not.”

“Obito, I –“

Obito waved a hand dismissively. “It’s okay, Kakashi We can practice later. You probably want to spend time with your dad. See ya tomorrow!” He skipped off before Kakashi cold respond.

Sakumo watched the dark-haired boy with the Uchiha crest on his back run off. Kakashi had mentioned him the other week. How Obito had followed him, pestering him until he talked, and finally taking him to his house so he wouldn’t be alone. They had been spending time together outside of their classes ever since. Sakumo was glad his son had finally begun to make real friends, not just acquaintances. He ruffled Kakashi’s hair as he saw the look on his face.

“Obito seems like a very kind boy,” he commented as Kakashi looked up at him.

“Yeah,” Kakashi agreed. He had promised Obito he’d help him figure out why he was having trouble performing his clan’s fireball jutsu properly this afternoon. He hadn’t known his father was going to be coming home yet. Before Kakashi had a chance to say anything, Obito had cheerfully released him from his promise. Sometimes Kakashi found the other absolutely baffling. At the same time, he was grateful to his new friend.

They began walking out of the courtyard. Familiar guilt welled up in Kakashi as he noticed his father had a slight limp and was favoring his left leg. Sakumo, watching Kakashi out of the corner of his eye, picked up on it immediately. Kakashi may be good at hiding his feelings from others, but his father could read him like an open book.

“Did – did they say how much longer it’ll be before…?” Kakashi couldn’t bring himself to finish asking the question.

Sakumo lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “About another two weeks,” he said, “Assuming I – how did she put it? – ah, yes, ‘realize that she is the doctor and, therefore, the one who gets the final say on exactly when I’m in condition to return to active duty. So I’d better listen and take it easy so I can finish healing if I want to step foot outside the village in the foreseeable future.’” His amusement was touched with a bit of exasperation. Sakumo had been a shinobi for a long time. He knew his capabilities and limits. He also knew better than to argue with the medical ninja without good reason. Yes, he’d missed out on an important mission and was still off the active duty roster for a bit longer but it wasn’t the end of the world. There would be other missions and he was not so arrogant as to think there weren’t any other jonin in the village who were capable of covering any missions he’d missed.

“I see.” Kakashi’s earlier good mood had evaporated.

Sakumo stifled a sigh. No matter how many times they had gone over this, Kakashi was still blaming himself for his injury. This had gone on for too long already. Sakumo needed to get to the root of what had been troubling his son. Tonight.

* * *

It was time to get to the bottom of whatever had upset Kakashi enough to cause him to run out into the middle of a raging storm. After dinner, Sakumo sat in the living room so that he was at Kakashi’s eye level. Looming over the boy wasn’t going to get him to open up to him. They had always been close and it concerned Sakumo greatly that Kakashi was clearly upset about something but hadn’t said anything until he exploded. It was unlike him and he was determined to get answers.

Sakumo decided to open with something a little less blunt than ‘what the hell is going on.’ He could work up to that. “How are your classes going at the Academy?” he asked conversationally instead.

“Boring,” Kakashi stated flatly. “I already know all this stuff.”

Sakumo wasn’t surprised by his son’s answer. The first few months _would_ be boring for Kakashi as they went over the basic skills that he had already mastered. “Well, I’m certain you’ll get to something you don’t know soon enough.”

“I doubt it. No one else can even pull off a shadow clone, much less a transformation jutsu. We’re still doing the most basic shinobi skills. It’s little kid stuff!”

Sakumo bit the inside of his cheek, fighting the temptation to remind his son that he still _was_ just a little kid himself. The annoyed look on his son’s face told him the boy knew full well what he was thinking.

“It’s not funny!” Kakashi suddenly shouted, startling his father. His hands clenched into fists at his sides and he was shaking.

“Kakashi –?“

“Everybody keeps scolding me but nobody _listens_!” he cried, tears of frustration glistening in his dark eyes. “I already _know_ everything that we’re being taught. But if I say anything, I’m arrogant. If I win at sparring or shuriken throwing I’m showing off. If I try to read something quietly so I’m not bored out of my mind I’m disrespectful, even though I’m not bothering anybody! Other kids are _actually_ disruptive and they just get told to settle down. _I_ get told that they expect better from me.” His tone turned bitter and angry. “I’m Sakumo Hatake’s – the White Fang’s - son. I’m supposed to be setting an _example_.” He snorted derisively. “But when I’m better than everybody else, I’m showing off. I can’t win.”

Sakumo regarded his son for a long moment. The boy was barely holding himself together, frustrated and upset at the unfairness of it. No matter how you looked at it, Kakashi had a point. His skills were ahead of his classmates and peers. Far ahead. He was learning nothing at all in a first-year Academy class. It was doubtful he’d learn much outside of a final year class. Sakumo sighed. He’d wanted so badly for his son to have a normal childhood. But Kakashi _wasn’t_ a normal child. And he had allowed himself to forget that.

He suddenly remembered the night Kakashi had run into the storm. He had cried that no one was listening to him then, too. Guilt assailed him. Kakashi was right, he _hadn’t_ listened to him. He had been angry at the reports he was getting about Kakashi’s behavior and hadn’t bothered listening when his son tried to explain. He’d heard the words, but he hadn’t _listened._ He had felt Kakashi was wasting his time at the Academy, something the boy had claimed he had wanted practically since he could talk. By jumping to conclusions, Sakumo had failed his son terribly.

“You’re right. You aren’t going to learn anything where you are now. And I’m sorry for not listening to you earlier. You were trying to tell me and I didn’t listen.” He held his arms open. Kakashi climbed up onto his lap, curling up against him, tucking his head under his chin as he held him tightly. Kakashi was the most precious thing in the world to him and he hated to see him upset. Especially when he’d inadvertently had a hand in causing it. “I will go and speak with your instructors tomorrow -” he said softly, “- and see what we can do about your class placement.”

He felt Kakashi nod, some of the tension leaving the boy’s small frame at his words. This was the down side to prodigy, he mused bitterly. Sakumo had been so narrowly focused on Kakashi being a normal child that he had ignored the fact that he _wasn’t_ a normal child, no matter how much he wished it was otherwise. Kakashi would never have the same childhood as his peers because he simply wasn’t like them. But he would always be here for his son, no matter what, he vowed, resting his cheek against the top of the messy silver hair, wrapping the boy in a cocoon of warmth and love.

“Dad?” came a soft, somewhat muffled voice.

“Hm?”

“I – I shouldn’t have run off the other day. It – it’s my fault you got hurt and couldn’t go on your mission.”

“Hush. You shouldn’t have run off, that’s true. But I understand now why you were so upset. The fall was an accident and not your fault. Besides, it’s nothing that won’t heal.”

Kakashi snuggled into his father’s embrace, feeling safe and secure in his strong arms. While he was already on the path to becoming a shinobi and was fiercely independent, he was still young enough to need reassurance at times. He closed his eyes as he listened to his father’s steady heartbeat in his ear. His lingering guilt and upset melted away and he fully relaxed, knowing he was forgiven, and relieved to have finally been heard.

Sakumo held his son until he fell asleep cradled in his arms. He had felt the tension drain from the small body once he realized he had finally been heard. Sakumo’s heart ached that he had been the cause of so much distress for the boy. As his father, he should have listened to Kakashi without jumping on him. He should have been the one Kakashi _could_ talk to about his problems, without adding to them himself.

“I’m sorry, Kakashi,” he murmured into the silver hair. “I failed you. I won’t do so again,” he promised. Kakashi sighed in his sleep as he shifted position a bit. Sakumo sat for a while, simply holding his son close. It was too infrequently that he had the chance nowadays.

Still holding Kakashi, Sakumo climbed somewhat awkwardly to his feet. His leg was no longer bound in the bulky cast and bandages and braces, but it was still weak. The bone had set and mended but he was still going through physical therapy to regain strength in the limb. It was a slow and tedious process that was driving him mad. He knew that pushing himself too hard would only set back his recovery. So he grit his teeth and took it easy. Luckily, Kakashi was a light burden. He found his balance and then carried his son to his room. He tucked Kakashi in, brushing his hair back from his face with a soft smile. He kissed his son’s forehead before turning off the lights and leaving the room. He had a lot to think about.

* * *

It turned out that Sakumo didn’t have to go to the Academy to speak with them about Kakashi. Shortly after Kakashi left for class the following morning, Sakumo received a request for a meeting that afternoon. Curious, he arrived at the prescribed time early that afternoon to find Kakashi’s homeroom teacher and the Academy principal already waiting for him. After a brief greeting, his homeroom teacher got straight to the point.

“Kakashi is an extremely talented boy,” he said. “His abilities in all the ninja arts are far superior to his classmates. Perhaps even exceeding some of the instructors.”

Sakumo nodded, waiting to see where the other was going. He wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know. Who did he think had trained Kakashi in the ninja arts prior to his entering the Academy and continued to work with him at home? He knew full well the extent of his son’s abilities and knew he had the potential to become one of the Leaf Village’s most powerful shinobi, perhaps someday even surpassing himself.

The other man continued. “I recommend placing him in the final year class. That’s the only placement that makes sense for his level of skill. Though for him to skip ahead so far, especially at his age, we need parental consent.”

Sakumo stuck his hands into his front pockets. “I am well aware of Kakashi’s abilities,” he stated. “And I agree. He is learning nothing where he is currently.”

“Then it’s settled. Starting tomorrow, Kakashi will move –“

“Tomorrow?” Sakumo interrupted. “This close to graduation?” He had expected Kakashi to start a new class the following year. As it was, there were only a few weeks left in the school year.

“Well… yes. Honestly, he could easily pass the graduation exams right now.”

Sakumo knew the other was correct. Kakashi could already perform the jutsu required to graduate. He’d be able to pass the written exam without any problem as well. Allowing Kakashi to graduate so early was a double-edged sword. It would keep him from being bored and allow him to put his skills to good use serving the village, that was true. But he was still only five years old, just a few weeks short of his sixth birthday. Sakumo wasn’t so sure being thrust into the harsh realities of shinobi life would be a good thing for one so young.

Sakumo had recently heard that the mission he was supposed to go on prior to his injury had gone badly for the team that had been sent in his place. All but one member of the team had perished. Rumor had it that the survivor had abandoned the others in order to complete the mission. Sakumo hoped it wasn’t true, though he knew it most likely was. For a shinobi, the Village rules came before all else, even friends. If completing a mission meant abandoning your friends, you were expected to leave them behind and you’d be hailed as a hero for it.

He hated that way of thinking. He was a shinobi in order to protect those things that were precious to him – his son, his friends, his village and country. If they were willing – even encouraged – to abandon their friends and comrades in order to complete their missions, what was the point? He had tried instilling his own morals and values in Kakashi and he knew the boy had listened and took his words to heart. But could he hold on to those ideals when faced with a no-win situation? A time when he would be forced to choose what was more important to him – his mission or his comrades. And could he live with whatever choice he made? Sakumo hoped he would never have to find out. He was enough of a realist to know that it could very likely happen. As an adult Sakumo would struggle with that choice, how could he expect Kakashi to make it as a young child?

Sakumo knew the Academy couldn’t force him to move Kakashi or force him to allow him to graduate so early. Not during peacetime unless they got the Hokage involved. He doubted Hiruzen would go against his wishes as Kakashi’s father. He also knew his son needed to be challenged. Kakashi was miserable where he was now. But to allow him to graduate already… it was too soon. There had been young graduates before, but a five-year old genin was unheard of. He could insist Kakashi spend another year at the Academy, but would it really be any different than this year had been? Forcing Kakashi to remain at the Academy meant he would be bored and unhappy. Allowing him to graduate meant he’s be a shinobi before his sixth birthday. Sakumo didn’t like either option but he couldn’t see a third. He sighed heavily.

“Alright,” Sakumo reluctantly agreed. He simply hoped he was doing the best thing for Kakashi’s sake.

* * *

Sakumo watched Kakashi’s graduation with mixed feelings. He was proud, certainly. While Kakashi had inherited a certain amount of skill and intelligence, he also worked very hard in honing his skills through arduous training. He read constantly, devouring knowledge like a starving man devours a feast. He’d open any scroll containing a new jutsu he could get his hands on, practicing until he was able to perform it flawlessly, adding it to his ever-increasing repertoire. He’d even been granted permission to study several advanced jutsu from the Hokage’s personal library.

On the other hand, he looked small and very, very young compared to the other new genin that surrounded him. Most of the other new graduates ranged in age from around ten at the youngest to early teens. They seemed to tower over the skinny, not-quite six-year old boy. Sakumo couldn’t help but notice that none of them spoke more than a few words to his son. For the most part, they completely ignored him. He didn’t have a single friend among the older children. Though, to be completely fair, Kakashi had transferred into their class with only a few weeks left in the school year.

Sakumo pushed aside his doubts as the ceremony ended and Kakashi wandered over to him. He grinned up at his father, his silver bangs fell over the headband that proclaimed him to be a shinobi of the Hidden Leaf.

“Congratulations,” Sakumo said simply.

“Thanks.”

“Have you gotten your team assignments yet?”

Kakashi shook his head as he headed towards the exit. “We’re supposed to report back here in three days. We’ll be told our teams and jonin instructors then.”

_It’s a good thing Jiraiya already has a team,_ Sakumo thought, amused, as he mentally ran through those jonin he knew did not currently have genin teams. _I’d hate to have to kill a friend for corrupting my son._

A small group of children surrounded them as they walked outside, all around Kakashi’s age. Sakumo recognized Obito and Guy, the two boys who had managed to get past Kakashi’s cool exterior to actually befriend him. There was a brown-haired girl he suspected was Rin. Kakashi had mentioned she was Obito’s friend who was also included Kakashi in their activities when the other boy had begun befriending him. He was able to guess at the identities of the others; there were several jonin who had children in Kakashi’s former class.

“Wow, you’re really a genin now!” Obito said as his gaze traveled to the new headband. “That’s gotta be a new record!”

Kakashi shrugged. He knew that it was; he’d overheard the instructors saying he was the youngest graduate the Academy ever had. He simply didn’t care and saw no reason to make a fuss over it.

”Let’s go to the park!” Rin said, getting a chorus of agreement in response, “Are you coming, Kakashi?”

Sakumo smiled and gave Kakashi a gentle shove towards the other children. “Go on,” he said. “Just be home by dark.” He smiled as he watched Kakashi head off with the group. _Do you see this, Sayomi? Kakashi has finally begun to form bonds with others, to make friends. He’s even letting himself be a kid for a bit, even after making genin._ Sakumo’s heart eased. Perhaps his son’s future wasn’t so bleak as he had feared after all.


	9. Chapter 9

Sakumo lounged in the jonin standby station, back to the door, and his long legs stretched out in front of him. He’d been back on active duty for months, the accident that had laid him up for several weeks long behind him. He was due to go off duty shortly and was simply waiting until it was time to go home, barring a last-minute emergency mission. Kakashi should be home for dinner tonight, he mused. As a genin, his son now had his own missions with his team and jonin instructor to carry out. ‘D’- ranked, little more than errands around the village, much to the boy’s dissatisfaction. Each time he complained, Sakumo simply reminded him that all shinobi had to start somewhere, earning him a sulky reply about how the chunin exams couldn’t get here fast enough.

The next set of chunin exams was still months away but Kakashi was already counting down the days. He couldn’t wait to advance in rank, allowing him to work solo rather than being required to be on a team with genin twice his age and with half his skill. Genin did not carry out solo missions, no matter their skill level. Chunin did not always carry out solo missions, either. Sakumo had decided to let Kakashi discover that for himself. His son _needed_ to learn how to work with others whether he liked it or not.

Sakumo folded his hands behind his head as he slouched comfortably. The door behind him opened and a group of jonin walked in, chatting. The room was beginning to get more crowded with both those waiting to go on duty and those waiting to come off. He glanced at the clock mounted on the wall across from him. Not quite time, yet.

“I heard you have the White Fang’s kid on your team,” came a voice form behind him.

_That_ caught Sakumo’s attention. He remained still as he listened, completely unabashed at doing so. This room was _not_ the place to have a private conversation and everyone knew it - shinobi ears were sharp and trained to listen. He was curious as to how Kakashi was doing. Getting anything more than ‘fine’ or a litany of complaints about how boring ‘D’-ranks were out of his son was near impossible when he asked about his training. He hadn’t wanted to go to Kakashi’s sensei. He didn’t want to give the impression that he was one of those overbearing parents who needed to know every detail of their child’s day. He also didn’t want to be told what they’d think he’d want to hear rather than the truth. Sakumo was well aware Kakashi could be challenging to work with; he didn’t appreciate the sugar-coating that others sometimes put on it in order to appease him.

“Huh, the White Fang has a kid?” came a second voice. Sakumo didn’t recognize either of them but that wasn’t unusual. The Hidden Leaf had a large number of shinobi and jonin often carried out missions alone and for extended periods. While the ultra-elite was a small circle, it was entirely possible to not know more than a fraction of those in the regular forces.

“Yeah,” said a third voice unenthusiastically. That must be Kakashi’s team leader.

“Well? What’s that like?” came the first voice again. “I heard from one of the Academy instructors that the kid is supposed to be a genius like his father. He graduated in a single year! That’s gotta be some sort of record or something. That makes him, what – eight, nine?”

“Six. He’s six.” The words were said with a sigh. Sakumo resisted the urge to turn to get a look at his son’s jonin instructor. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself. He wanted to hear what the man had to say.

A short burst of laughter followed by, “Damn, six, really? Anyway, what’s it like?”

“It’s a nightmare,” was the tired-sounding response after a brief pause. “I’m going to ask Lord Hokage to assign him to a different team.”

“What?! You have the son of one of the most famous ninja in the village on your team and you’re going to ask the Hokage to reassign him after barely two months? Why?”

“Because it’s not working out. He’s not working with his teammates. The kid’s got talent, I’ll give him that, but he’s barely six. His teammates are both thirteen. They don’t want to work with a little kid and I can’t completely blame them. It doesn’t help that he’s at least as skilled as they are. I spend more time breaking up fights than teaching them anything.”

“So you’re just going to kick the kid off the team? That’s insane!”

“Why would that be?” came a dry response. “Because his father’s the White Fang? Someone else wants to suck up to his dad, they can go right ahead. I need to do what’s best for the team and that’s getting Kakashi off of it.”

It was a bit disappointing to hear his son wasn’t fitting in and that his instructor wanted him off of the team. Sakumo forced himself to look at the situation objectively. The other jonin was correct; a team that couldn’t work together was more dangerous to themselves than any enemy. On the other hand, shinobi were trained to work in squads and were expected to do so regardless of their personal feelings about their teammates. A part of him couldn’t help but wonder why the other man wasn’t focusing more on finding a way to make his squad into a cohesive unit rather than dumping the piece that didn’t fit in. Sakumo pushed the thought aside. It was not his call to make, the Hokage was the one who would approve the transfer or not.

He glanced at the clock again. Finally, time to go. Rising gracefully to his feet, he heard a soft, startled gasp behind him. As he turned to make his way toward the door, he saw three sets of eyes on him, two wide with surprise and worry, one narrowed slightly. He inclined his head slightly as he passed, not pausing or stopping. Eavesdropping aside, he was staying out of Kakashi’s business when it came to being a shinobi. He wouldn’t be doing anyone any favors by inserting himself into things and Kakashi would only resent him for it.

“Hatake!”

Sakumo stopped and turned toward the speaker. One of the jonin, the one who had been glaring at him, strode up to him as he stood in the middle of the hall. “What can I do for you?” Sakumo asked pleasantly. His tone only seemed to anger the other man. His face darkened as his scowl deepened.

“What are you playing at?!” he demanded.

“I’m sorry?” Sakumo’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Where are you going?”

Sakumo bristled slightly at the other’s tome. “Not that it’s any of your concern but I’m heading home. I’m off duty.”

“You’re not going to see Lord Hokage?”

_Ah,_ Sakumo realized, _so that’s it. I thought as much._

“No,” he said out loud. “Kakashi is my son and I love him and am concerned about him, of course. However, short of the threat of serious injury or death, I will not get involved with his duties as a shinobi. His actions and behavior are his own and he needs to learn to handle the reality of the shinobi world. Better for him to learn now as a genin in the Village than later when lives are on the line.”

The jonin stared at him for a moment, eyes searching. Then he sighed, his aggressive stance relaxing somewhat. “I see,” he said slowly.

“I may not like everything that I hear but I much prefer to hear how Kakashi is _really_ doing rather than some sugar-coated version because you think that’s what I want to hear. You’re his jonin leader. If you feel that he cannot work on your team, then that is between you, him, and Lord Hokage. Now if you’ll excuse me, I haven’t had a chance to sit down and enjoy a meal with my son recently and he should be home in time for dinner tonight.” He turned and continued on his way, leaving the other jonin standing alone in the hallway.

* * *

“What’s it like being a genin and getting to go on missions and stuff?” Obito asked. He walked over to the target and pulled the shuriken he’d thrown free from the wood. Only one had hit the edge of the center ring but at least they’d all hit the target. He was improving with Kakashi’s help. “It’s gotta be so much cooler than sitting around in a classroom all day.”

“Boring,” Kakashi replied. “D-rank missions are nothing more than errands – finding lost cats or babysitting or walking dogs or helping some lazy noblewoman with shopping. How are we supposed to learn to be shinobi doing stuff like that?” He didn’t mention that babysitting was extremely difficult when you were barely older than the child you were supposed to be babysitting for. In some cases, he was even younger, much to his mortification. Apparently, sitting on the brat to keep them from running off was especially frowned upon, even if they were bigger than him. It was enough to make Kakashi swear he would never have children.

“I thought you were supposed to learn to work with a team in a non-lethal setting.”

“Right, because carrying some lady’s shopping is a great way to develop teamwork,” Kakashi said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He hurled three shuriken in rapid succession. All three hit dead center.

“What are your teammates like?”

“Obnoxious.”

Obito rolled his eyes. “It can’t be _that_ bad. I mean, you’re all genin, right? It’s not like you’re still stuck in a first-year Academy class.” Obito was still slightly in awe of the fact that the other boy had graduated from the Academy in just a single year. While he was still a bit jealous of Kakashi’s natural talent, the resentment he’d felt about it had since faded. Once Obito had begun breaking through his walls, he found Kakashi wasn’t at all the arrogant, condescending jerk he’d always thought. For all his genius, the other boy had a hard time relating to other people, so he hid behind a mask of bored indifference. Obito had forced him out of his comfort zone and discovered the other boy to be loyal and always willing to help his friends. He’d made decent progress in the past few months with his own training with Kakashi tutoring him. “Shouldn’t you all know the same stuff?”

That was what Kakashi had thought. He’d been excited to graduate from the Academy, figuring he’d now have the opportunity to be partnered with others of his own skill level. Instead, he was stuck with two teenagers who treated him like a little kid, speaking down to him as if he was stupid when they bothered to speak to him at all, telling him to be quiet when he did try to say something, and lashing out at him when he proved more skilled than they were.

“Not even close. It doesn’t matter, anyway,” Kakashi said. “I overheard sensei muttering something about switching teams. Good riddance!” He flung a kunai at another target.

“Wait! What? Kakashi –“

“It happens. I don’t care.” The silver-haired boy yanked the kunai from the target.

Obito shook his head. Kakashi may be bad with people but he was a skilled shinobi. Obito could tell that in spite of his words to the contrary, Kakashi was upset with the situation. “Well,” he said, trying to cheer the other up. “You can wait until the rest of us graduate! I’ll be on your team. Hmm… who else..?” He pretended to consider for a moment, then grinned suddenly. He waited for Kakashi to ready another kunai. “Guy. We definitely need Guy on our team.”

Kakashi’s eyes went wide with horror. He liked Obito and Guy well enough but the idea of being on a team with his self-proclaimed eternal rival was nothing short of appalling. The kunai glanced off the side of the target and Obito fell to the ground laughing.

“You should see the look on your face!”

“Jerk!” Kakashi muttered, sending Obito into another fit of laughter. He shook his head and allowed a small smile. “Come on, it’s getting late. I told Dad I’d be home for dinner tonight.” He reached down and clasped Obito’s wrist, pulling him to his feet. They collected their scattered weapons.

“Do you really think you’re going to be getting a new team?” Obito asked as they left the training ground.

Kakashi shrugged. “That’s what is sounded like. I’ll let you know when I have time to help you again.”

Obito grinned. “Alright! See ya, Kakashi!” He scampered away as they reached the main street. Kakashi turned and headed towards home, 

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Kakashi trained with his new genin team. There was no love lost between him and his new teammates any more than there had been between him and his last ones. At least his new teammates reluctantly agreed that the youngest member of their squad was skilled. Skilled enough to get them through the chunin exams. Kakashi knew he needed a team in order to enter, so he bit his tongue and focused on accomplishing their almost ridiculously simple tasks.

Kakashi was alone in the house, his father had been off on a mission for the past few weeks. It was nearing noon. His team had completed their assignment early that morning and their jonin instructor had decided against more training that afternoon, leaving them free for the rest of the day. Kakashi got up from where he had been sprawled on the couch reading to fix himself some lunch. He was halfway to the kitchen when the front door opened.

“Dad! You’re home!”

“So are you,” Sakumo stated as he dropped his pack by the door. He was covered in sweat and road dust and was glad to be home again.

“Sensei let us go early.”

“I see.” He toed off his sandals, leaving them in the entryway as he walked further into the house. “Let me get cleaned up then you can tell me all about what you’ve been up to these past few weeks while I’ve been gone.”

“There’s not much to tell,” Kakashi muttered sourly.

Sakumo ruffled his hair on the way past. Kakashi continued to the kitchen to prepare lunch. They sat at the table once Sakumo had washed the weeks of road-dust off and changed into blissfully clean clothes.

“How’s your new team been working out?”

“Fine,” Kakashi said. “Really,” he said under his father’s sharp gaze. “We need each other if we’re going to get through the chunin exams.”

It sounded as if his teammates were merely tolerating Kakashi. Sakumo wasn’t happy about that but he supposed it was a step up from the outright hostility of his last team. He kept those thoughts to himself. “You’re planning on participating?” he asked instead.

“Of course! Babysitting is hardly a ninja mission!”

“Even when the kid is older and bigger than you?” Sakumo asked innocently. Kakashi glared. Of _course_ someone would have made certain his father heard about _that._ He lapsed into sulky silence as they ate, pointedly ignoring his father’s amused grin.

Once the table was cleared and the kitchen cleaned, Kakashi stuck his nose back into the book he was currently reading. He was almost finished with it and had a whole stack sitting in his bedroom awaiting his attention.

Closing the back cover, Kakashi headed toward the kitchen to get himself a glass of water before deciding which book to tackle next. Standing at the counter, a flash out the window caught his eye. Setting his glass aside, he climbed onto the counter to get a better look. His father was in the back yard, moving through a complicated kata. A streak of white chakra followed the path of Sakumo’s tanto as he swung it. Kakashi watched for several minutes, entranced. His father’s movements were graceful and fluid, powerful and deadly. Jumping down from the counter, Kakashi headed outside.

“Hey, Dad?” Kakashi said when his father completed the kata.

Sakumo lowered the sword and looked towards him. “What is it?”

“Will you teach me kenjutsu? We didn’t learn it at all at the Academy and everyone I’ve tried to ask just tells me to come back when I’m big enough to hold a sword properly.”

“Well, they are right that you’re too small to use a katana or the like,” he said. “You also realize that it will take time to become proficient. It isn’t like learning a new ninjutsu technique. It requires constant practice to maintain your skill, much less improve.” Not that he was worried about that. Kakashi had always trained hard.

“I know. I just… want to learn. Please?”

Sakumo studied his son for another moment. Kakashi was a bit subdued. Sakumo suspected the friction on his team bothered him more than he was willing to admit. It certainly wouldn’t hurt to teach him kenjutsu – the more ways he had to protect himself, the better. “Alright. Wait here.”

Kakashi perked up instantly. He waited obediently while Sakumo went inside and searched for a suitable practice blade for him. It was sized and weighted similarly to Sakumo’s white chakra saber. Sakumo knew Kakashi would not be able to handle a long blade yet but a tanto would be manageable. Kakashi’s face fell slightly when his father handed him the practice sword. Not missing the look of disappointment, Sakumo smiled and ruffled his hair.

“You need to learn the basics before anything else,” he said. “Besides, this –“ he indicated the tanto he carried on his back “- is my blade. I will pass it to you some day. Maybe wait until after I pass thirty, at least, huh?”

“I just wanted to learn… I mean, it looks so cool!”

Sakumo chuckled softly. “Once you get the basic techniques down I’ll teach you about channeling your chakra through a blade. One step at a time.”

Kakashi nodded. He understood what his father was saying and knew he was correct. That didn’t mean he wasn’t a bit impatient. He gave the sword a few practice swings. It was longer and heavier than he was used to. Once Kakashi had a feel for the blade, Sakumo drew his own, reinforcing basic cuts and blocks. Kakashi mirrored his movements. Satisfied that Kakashi had a grasp of the very basics, he began a simple kata, designed to reinforce them. Kakashi followed his movements. Sakumo paused after each move, checking that Kakashi’s position and footing were correct before moving to the next.

They repeated the kata several times, until Sakumo was certain Kakashi had it down. He watched his son move through it a few more times, his face scrunched with concentration. A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he watched. He remembered learning kenjutsu from his own father when he had only been a couple of years older than Kakashi was now. He was glad that his son wanted to learn, though he suspected that Kakashi’s true strength lay in ninjutsu, like his mother. Time would tell.


	10. Chapter 10

Kakashi stood a short distance from his teammates, silently fuming, as those who had successfully passed the second round of the chunin exams were congratulated and the rules for the next round explained. His team had made it through the second round - barely. He was beyond relieved to hear that the third and final round was individual one-on-one combat. They had very nearly been eliminated in the previous round due to one of his teammate’s carelessness. He had walked right into a trap set by a rival team. Kakashi had been less than pleased that the other hadn’t even noticed the obvious ambush. An unobservant shinobi was a dead shinobi, Kakashi had reminded him, nearly causing them to come to blows before their third teammate stepped in. At least for the final round if he failed it was on him, not due to his teammates inattention. _Incompetence_ was the word that came to mind though he didn’t say it out loud. They had made it through the second round and that was all that mattered now.

Four teams had passed the first and second rounds, twelve genin in all. Kakashi glanced around at his competition. All of them were over twice his age. None of them were rookies – they had all graduated from the Academy at least a year or more prior. That didn’t faze him in the least. He was more than capable of taking on a much older and larger opponent. He knew his teammates’ respective skills; no worries there, he could defeat both of them. He was unfamiliar with the rest of the genin. He would have to pay attention though he wasn’t overly concerned.

They were dismissed until the third round began in two days’ time. Kakashi turned and headed towards home without a word to anyone. He had no friends here. He heard a few muttered comments about him as he left. He ignored them, he was used to it by now. He would enjoy making them eat their words during the next round.

Arriving home, he let himself in and sighed as he noticed the house was quiet and empty. It looked like his father was still out on his latest mission. He’d been gone for weeks and Kakashi had hoped he’d be home in time to watch him in the chunin exams.

_The third round doesn’t begin for two more days. Dad could be home by then_ , he consoled himself as he went to get cleaned up. He made certain to clean and treat the various cuts and scrapes he was covered in. They were all minor at best but he’d been filthy. It wouldn’t due to get eliminated because he was careless and got an infection before the final round even began. He prepared himself a light supper and sat toying with his food as much as eating it. He knew he was sulking but he couldn’t help it.

He wanted so badly to be a great shinobi like his father. He had heard tales of the White Fang all his life. A powerful shinobi who had risen rapidly through the ranks, hailed as a genius and one of the greatest of his generation. His reputation as a Hidden Leaf shinobi was matched only by the likes of the legendary Sannin. Kakashi wasn’t interested in renown; his father was well renown but still humble. He longed for his father to be proud of him. Kakashi knew his father _was_ proud of him. Sakumo was free with his praise to those who deserved it. The quiet pride in his eyes even more than the words told Kakashi he spoke the truth. Yet he was dissatisfied with his own progress. It seemed everyone was completely focused on his age, not his skill. No one believed he could be a great shinobi because he was too young. It grated.

Finished with his meal, Kakashi picked up his practice sword and went into the back yard. He began running through the katas his father had taught him. He had found kenjutsu did not come as naturally to him as ninjutsu or even taijustu. He knew he was nowhere near proficient enough to use it during the chunin exams. He hadn’t even learned how to channel his chakra through a blade as his father didn’t feel he was ready yet. It chaffed a bit but Kakashi idolized his father so didn’t argue. The katas forced him to concentrate, not leaving room for brooding thoughts to intrude.

The sun was dropping low on the horizon when Kakashi decided to call it a night and headed back inside. It wouldn’t be prudent to overdo it right before the final round. Putting the sword away, he picked up his book and buried his nose within the pages.

* * *

Kakashi was nearly bouncing with excitement as he stood in the Hokage’s office along with the two other newly-minted chunin. _Finally_ he would no longer be stuck on a genin team where both the other genin and the jonin in charge resented him. While many chunin still worked in squads, they could also take solo missions. That was what Kakashi really wanted. No more pretending not to hear the snide comments from his teammates about his age or how he was being favored because his father was the White Fang. No more being stuck doing boring and pointless ‘D’-ranked missions finding lost cats or carrying shopping. He couldn’t wait to be dismissed so he could go to the missions desk and get his first blissfully solo assignment.

“Kakashi, will you stay for a moment, please,” the Hokage said as the others left. The boy turned back to face him, waiting patiently for the reason he had been retained. Hiruzen’s eyes flickered briefly to the man who had entered as the others had exited, before leveling his gaze on the new chunin in front of his desk. “I wanted to speak to you regarding where you’ll be assigned.”

The boy’s face lit up in anticipation. “Yes, Lord Third?”

“For the time being you’ll be remaining with your current team.”

Kakashi’s expression went blank, his dark eyes blinking as he absorbed the meaning of the words. “My genin team?” he asked slowly.

“Yes.”

“But… I’m a chunin now…” Kakashi heard the petulance in his voice and hated himself for it but he couldn’t help it. He was supposed to get solo missions as a chunin, not be stuck on a genin team still.

“I am well aware. However, I feel that it is for the best for now.”

Kakashi bit his lip to keep himself from saying something he’d likely regret. A shinobi didn’t mouth off to the Hokage, no matter how unfairly they felt they were being treated. He was very aware of the steady gaze on him as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. Shinobi didn’t show emotion. He was a shinobi and he was not about to give anyone reason to doubt it.

“May I ask why? He asked in a strained voice.

“You have a great deal of skill, Kakashi. Nobody questions that. However, a chunin must be capable of leading a squad on missions. Unfortunately, there are few shinobi who will accept a six-year old as their captain,” Hiruzen explained, not unkindly.

So it _was_ his age. It was _always_ his age. Why couldn’t anyone ever seem to look past that? Was he ever going to be allowed to prove himself? At this rate, he’d make jonin and still be stuck on a genin team and wouldn’t _that_ be humiliating. Kakashi ground his teeth together as he tried not to scream at the unfairness of it all.

“I can always take solo missions,” Kakashi protested. He _knew_ he was pushing things. But he had worked so hard to get to where he was already. He hated the thought of not being able to move forward.

A hand fell on his shoulder, causing him to start involuntarily. He’d had no idea anyone else was in the room. He turned his head as he cursed his own inattention and assumption that everyone had left. Sakumo had clearly just returned; he was still carrying his pack and his tanto was strapped to his back. His expression was carefully neutral but Kakashi saw a slight softening to his face as they locked gazes. His father understood how hard this was for him. Kakashi lowered his eyes and turned back to face the Hokage fully.

“I apologize, Lord Hokage,” he said, subdued. “I should not question your decisions.”

The corners of the old man’s eyes crinkled as he recalled a much more outspoken Hatake protesting when he felt he was being treated unfairly. Though Sakumo hadn’t been quite so young as his son at the time.

“It is not forever, Kakashi,” Hiruzen reminded the boy gently. “And should a mission come up to which you’re suited, it will be assigned to you.”

“Yes, Lord Third,” Kakashi said.

Hiruzen smiled and turned his attention to the elder Hatake. “Welcome back, Sakumo. I assume your mission was a success?”

“It was. You’ll have my full mission report in the morning.”

“I look forward to it,” It was clearly a dismissal.

“I’m proud of you, Kakashi,” Sakumo said as they walked down the corridor away from the Hokage’s office.

“I might as well still be a genin,” Kakashi groused. “It isn’t fair.”

_If life was fair your mother would still be alive._ “We’re shinobi. ‘Fair’ doesn’t come into it.”

“I know. It’s just…”

“You want to do more.”

“Yes! But all anyone keeps saying is I’m too young!”

“Tell me, what are you supposed to learn by being on a squad?” Sakumo asked as he pushed open the main door and they stepped outside.

Kakashi frowned slightly. “We’re supposed to get experience so we can take on more difficult missions.”

“That is true. But that’s not what I asked.”

Kakashi frowned slightly as he mentally replayed to question. He recalled something one of his Academy instructors had said about their post-graduation squad assignments. “Teamwork?”

“Exactly.”

“So…?” Kakashi asked when it became clear his father wasn’t going to volunteer anything further.

“So,” Sakumo said, “While jonin – and more rarely chunin – may carry out solo missions, most are handled by teams. Three or four shinobi with a clear chain of command.”

“I know all of this already. What does it have to do with anything?”

“Everything.”

“Huh?” Kakashi was thoroughly confused.

Sakumo took a moment to choose his next words carefully. Kakashi was already defensive and Sakumo wanted him to listen, not dismiss what he was saying out of hand because he was upset. “You graduated from the Leaf Academy in a single year. You’re also the youngest chunin the village has ever seen. Both of those are testaments to your skill. However, you are still lacking in one critical area – experience. Most chunin were genin for at least a year prior to taking the exams – often two or more years. You saw yourself that most still do not pass their first time. It’s been less than a year since you graduated from the Academy. Experienced shinobi are not going to follow a captain with what amounts to no real experience.”

“So, we’re back to ‘wait until you’re older’.”

“You are already on your way but remember, there are no shortcuts if you truly want to be a great shinobi someday.”

Kakashi sighed. “I _know_. But —“ He broke off as he realized he was whining. He scowled. He wasn’t looking for a shortcut, he was looking to show he was capable of more than anyone was willing to let him do.

“Besides, you heard Lord Hokage; you’ll be given missions that are suitable for you as they come up.”

“Yeah…” Kakashi hoped the words had been more than platitudes. He really didn’t want to spend the next five or six years on this team. Having to face the rest of his squad tomorrow was going to be a nightmare. He was the only one who had passed and the others were not going to be happy about it. _Maybe I’ll get lucky and something –_ anything _– will come up!_

* * *

Sakumo turned the scroll he held over and over in his hands. It contained a difficult jutsu but he was fairly certain his son could handle it. At least, he hoped so. Kakashi had been unhappy to learn that despite being promoted to chunin he was still assigned to the same team he’d been on for the exams. He had been sulking for days over it, angry at what he felt was the injustice of being treated like a little kid. While Sakumo could sympathize to a certain extent, he understood the Hokage’s decision. A six-year old chunin had been unheard of until now and very few older shinobi would be willing to work with him. Forget about taking orders if he was a squad leader. Kakashi was going to have to bide his time on a team until he got a bit older. That he’d been the only one of his teammates to pass had soured his disposition even further. Sakumo had gotten the scroll out in order to cheer him up, though if he couldn’t perform the jutsu it would only serve to worsen his already bad mood.

“Kakashi!” he finally called, making his choice. He was the White Fang, dammit - what sort of jonin was he if he couldn’t deal with a cranky child, even if he was a temperamental little genius? He got to his feet as his son appeared in the doorway.

“Yeah, Dad?”

“Come outside. I have something I want to show you.”

Kakashi perked up at that. Usually that meant his father was going to teach him a new technique or jutsu. He rushed to get his shoes on and followed his father out of the house.

“Do you know what this scroll is?” Sakumo asked, holding the rolled scroll up so Kakashi could see it clearly.

Kakashi shook his head. “No.” He was clearly itching to find out.

“This is a summoning contract,” Sakumo explained.

Kakashi’s brows drew together, furrowing his forehead slightly beneath his headband. “Like Taro?” he asked, putting the pieces together.

Sakumo nodded. “Exactly.”

Kakashi’s eyes went wide. “You’re going to teach me how to summon Taro, too?!” He couldn’t hide his excitement.

“Not quite,” Sakumo said with a chuckle at his enthusiasm. “Taro is my summons. While you could learn to summon him as well, I think it would be better for you to have your own summons, don’t you?”

Kakashi seemed to consider that for a moment. “I guess…” he sounded somewhat disappointed. He shoved his disappointment aside. “What do I do?” He had seen his father summon Taro before, but hadn’t yet learned the technique himself.

“First, you have to enter into a contract with the creature you intend to summon,” Sakumo explained. “It’s a blood contract.” He unrolled the scroll and showed Kakashi where his own name was written in blood upon it. “Every time you want to summon, you’ll need a bit of your blood in order to do so. The first few times, you may need the scroll as well to use as a focus.” Kakashi nodded in understanding. “You can either bite or use a kunai to cut yourself. The kunai may be easier at first.”

Kakashi pulled out a kunai. Without hesitation, sliced a shallow cut on the pad of his index finger. Nervous and excited, he wrote his name carefully and as neatly as he could on the scroll beside his father’s with the blood that welled up from the small wound. He absently stuck his finger in his mouth the stop the bleeding once he had finished. Sakumo rerolled the scroll. He showed Kakashi the series of hand signs needed to perform the jutsu, making him repeat them until he was satisfied he had them down.

Biting his own thumb, Sakumo performed the proper hand signs, placed his hand on the ground, and allowed his chakra to flow through it. A moment later, Taro appeared. The dog noted the scroll and scent of Kakashi’s blood.

“You’re teaching the pup summoning, Sakumo? That’s pretty advanced stuff. Are you sure he can handle it?”

Kakashi looked affronted at Taro’s doubt in his abilities. “I can do it!” he declared stubbornly.

“Alright, then,” Sakumo said. “When you finish the hand signs, you place your hand flat on a surface – in this case, the ground – and concentrate your chakra through your hand at that point. This jutsu is also dependent on the amount of chakra you use in your summoning. Too little chakra will summon a young, small creature. Or, more likely, nothing at all. More will summon a larger or more mature one. Do you remember the hand signs?”

Kakashi nodded. Sakumo handed him the scroll. Face scrunched in concentration, Kakashi squeezed his finger to make it bleed again and repeated the hand signs his father had made while holding the scroll.

“Uh oh,” Taro commented as he sat beside Sakumo to watch the results. “Your pup’s done it now!”

Overexcited or perhaps determined not to fail, Kakashi had channeled a lot of chakra into his summoning. A large cloud of smoke surrounded them. Sakumo could hear the sounds of excited yipping. The smoke gradually cleared. Eight tiny puppies were piled up in front of Kakashi. Sakumo blinked, his eyebrows raising in surprise. He hadn’t expected Kakashi to be able to summon anything on his first try, let alone multiple creatures. Taro’s mouth hung open with his tongue lolling out in his approximation of a silent laugh.

Kakashi, meanwhile, was frowning at the pile of puppies in front of him. “What the hell is this?” he asked, clearly displeased.

Taro barked out a short laugh. “What did you expect, pup?”

“A real summons!” Kakashi retorted.

Taro sobered instantly. “You just summoned _eight_ ninken! An entire pack. And you’re _complaining_ about it?”

“They’re tiny little puppies!” Kakashi groused. The puppies were busy sniffing around. They ignored Kakashi, inching towards Taro instead.

“Of course they’re little puppies! You’re still a puppy yourself!”

“I am not!” He turned to his father. “You said more chakra would summon a larger creature!” he said accusingly.

“It usually does,” Sakumo stated, wondering what _had_ happened.

Taro snorted. “Like I told your pup, Sakumo, he’s still a pup himself. He’s only going to be able to summon pups. Dogs are pack animals, you know. In order for them to truly accept you, you need to become part of their pack. An adult dog won’t recognize him as their alpha, no matter how skilled he is.”

“What about you?”

“ _You_ weren’t six years old when you first tried summoning,” Taro countered. “It would be different if Kakashi was older. But since he’s not…”

“I get it,” Sakumo said. He hadn’t considered that angle at all. But it _did_ make sense and he had no reason to doubt Taro’s word. The ninja hound picked up a puppy by the scruff of its neck and carried it to Kakashi. He deposited it in the boy’s lap.

“You’ll need to work with them and train together,” Taro said, picking up another pup. A few minutes later, Kakashi had all eight puppies in his lap.

“How do I do that?”

“You’re a bright kid. You’ll figure it out. Later!” Taro disappeared in a puff of smoke.

“ _That’s_ helpful,” Kakashi muttered sarcastically. He picked up the smallest of the pups and held it up in front of his face. It appeared to be a pug, brown with a darker brown face. “Do they even have names?”

The puppy in his hands shook its head.

“You can understand me?”

A nod.

“Can you talk?”

The head shook, ears flopping.

“That’s going to make things difficult.”

The pup barked.

“You’ll learn to talk as you get older?”

Another bark and a nod.

“Hm. That’s good to know. Do you have a name?”

Another head shake.

“Well, I guess that’s first, then,” Kakashi muttered. He considered for a moment, tilting his head to one side, studying the tiny puppy he held. “I’m Kakashi Hatake.” His tone was solemn and serious. “For you… how about…. Pakkun?”

The puppy yipped and licked his cheek. The boy giggled as the wet tongue slid across his face. “Okay, Pakkun it is.” He carefully set the puppy down and picked up another. “Hm. How does Urushi sound?” He repeated the process for each puppy. “Shiba, Akino, Uhei, Guguko, Bisket, and Bull.”

Sakumo watched his son interact with the summoned puppies. Not only had Kakashi managed a successful summoning on his first try, he’d summoned an entire pack. They were only puppies, true, but if Taro was to be believed, that’s all he could summon if a proper bond was to form. His lips curved upwards into a soft smile. While trying to be serious, Kakashi looked very much the young boy he was, surrounded by his puppies. They were all stumbling around on shaky legs, sniffing at the boy, and their new surroundings. Sakumo couldn’t have hoped for a better result – the pack of summoned ninja hounds had successfully pulled Kakashi out of his funk. He’d take it.

* * *

“They need to return to their own home,” Sakumo said a few hours later, finding Kakashi still enthralled with his puppies. Dusk was rapidly approaching.

Kakashi looked crestfallen. “Can they stay for a bit? Just for tonight? Please?” He looked up with pleading eyes.

Sakumo suddenly found himself under scrutiny from nine pairs of large, sad, pleading puppy eyes. _What the hell!? This is_ not _fair at all!_ “Alright,” he caved. Kakashi never asked for much and it wouldn’t hurt anything to give in this once. Kakashi was a responsible boy. “But you are responsible for cleaning it up if they mess in the house, understood? And you’ll need to end the summoning in the morning. You have chores to do.”

“Thanks, Dad!” Kakashi scooped three of the puppies up into his arms. The other five trotted along behind him, yipping in excitement as they raced towards the house. Sakumo shook his head and smiled ruefully. _I should have borrowed Jiraiya’s scroll and had him learn to summon a toad!_

Sakumo knew that anyone could summon a creature so long as they had a contract with said creature. Even multiple creatures, though each one required a separate contract in order to do so and it would take quite a bit of chakra. Shinobi tended to have an affinity for the type of creatures they summoned, however. While Kakashi may well have been able to summon a toad, Sakumo had suspected his affinity – like Sakumo’s own - would be for canines. He had apparently been correct in that assessment.

It wasn’t surprising. Many things in the shinobi world were passed on through bloodlines. Most clans had special jutsu that only members of that clan were capable of performing. Others possessed kekkei genkai that were passed on to members of their clan. Chakra nature affinities were often passed on from parent to child. Entire clans tended to share chakra affinity as well. Kakashi had inherited Sakumo’s lightning chakra nature. It would make his handling of Sakumo’s chakra blade easier when he finally inherited it. Like summons, high level shinobi were capable of using more than one chakra nature. Jonin had to have mastered at least two, preferably three before they were granted the rank. But their highest level jutsu would always be the one that matched their chakra affinity.

* * *

Kakashi spent the rest of the afternoon and evening playing with the puppies. _Training_ , he had corrected his father in an affronted tone. As if playing was beneath him. He sat very seriously in front of them as he spoke to them, telling them of the things he hoped to do with them. It cheered Sakumo to watch. If Kakashi bonded with his ninken, he would have faithful companions to aid him on his assignments. Sakumo knew from experience how useful that could be. Taro had saved his life on more than one occasion. It would take some time, he knew. The summoned dogs needed time to grow up and develop their own skills. But once they did, Kakashi would have an entire pack looking out for him.

Later that night, Sakumo stopped by Kakashi’s bedroom to check on him before he turned in himself. He stood in the doorway and smiled at the sight that greeted him.

Kakashi lay buried in a literal dog pile. Only the top of his silver head was visible beneath the eight of the summoned puppies were sprawled on top of the boy while they all slept.


	11. Chapter 11

Rumors of another war hung heavy in the air. There was no denying the signs that were pointing toward an outbreak of hostilities. Tensions had been rising between the nations practically since the last war ended. Sakumo could feel the tension when he was out on missions near the Land of Fire’s borders. Skirmishes had broken out within the smaller nations that had the misfortune of being caught between the larger, more powerful ones. The Hidden Leaf Village was quietly increasing patrols neat the border and stockpiling weapons and supplies in anticipation of increasing hostilities. No one was saying it out loud yet, but the jonin and chunin of the village knew it was almost inevitable. It was only a matter of time before an incident ignited the spark that would plunge the shinobi world into war once again.

Sakumo had already fought in one war. His wife had died in that same war, just months after Kakashi had been born. He had no desire to see yet another. His dark-eyed gaze slid towards his son where he was practicing a new technique. Now ten years old, Kakashi had been a chunin for four years. With a bit more experience, he would be a jonin. _He’s too young!_ Sakumo’s heart protested. _He’s still a child!_ Kakashi had been born during the Second Great Shinobi War. Sakumo desperately hoped that his son would not have to fight in the Third. There was nothing worse than seeing children on the battlefield in his experience. The orphans left behind when their parents were killed were bad enough. Child soldiers was nothing short of horrifying.

The Hidden Stone had been probing the Land of Fire’s borders for years, intensifying their efforts in recent months, sending incursions into the smaller nations sandwiched between them. There were rumors of the Hidden Sand’s economy flagging. Sakumo was enough of a realist to know both other Hidden Villages were gearing up for all-out war. The Hidden Leaf would be drawn inevitably into it if their smaller neighbors were attacked. For self-preservation if nothing else. If the small border nations fell, it left the Fire Nation’s borders vulnerable.

His heart clenched as he thought of Kakashi and his peers being thrust into the battlefield. Most would be fresh genin. They would be woefully unprepared to deal with the horrors that a full-scale war would throw at them. It would be a last resort, he knew, to send the children to war. It did little to ease his fear.

* * *

Sakumo sighed softly as he learned Kakashi was being assigned to yet another squad. His son had exceptional skills as a shinobi. But his interpersonal skills were sorely lacking. Much of it was due to his age. At barely ten, he was the same age or younger than many fresh Academy graduates. However, he had graduated long ago and already been a chunin for years; he would likely make jonin soon. Older shinobi resented taking orders from one they perceived as nothing more than a child who should still be in the Academy. Which, in turn, rankled Kakashi. He didn’t see what difference his age made; if he was the leader, the others should obey, not argue with him.

Though there was no denying that some of it was his personality as well. Kakashi tended to be plain spoken to the point of being blunt. Sometimes thoughtlessly so. If he disagreed with someone, he told them. When he felt something could be better, he stated it. Unfortunately, tact was not Kakashi’s strong suit. Shinobi in their teens, twenties, or older, did not enjoy having a child that stood no higher than their waist telling them they were wrong or how he could do it better. Even if he was right.

As rumors of his stubborn attitude had spread, it had become harder and harder to place the boy on a team. Many, already turned off by his youth and some believing his rank had only been granted because of his status as the White Fang’s son, refused to even give him a proper chance. It was frustrating all around. While nobody dared outright refuse to work with him – at least to the Hokage or Jonin Commander’s faces – they made life as difficult as possible for the boy. Who, in turn, doubled down in his determination to prove himself a better shinobi than those who felt he didn’t deserve his place. Which led to him being transferred yet again. And again.

The Hokage had told him he was placing Kakashi on a team with one of Jiraiya’s former students. Minato Namikaze was a young jonin in his early twenties who was easy-going and friendly, yet extremely talented in his own right as well. He had already begun making a name for himself due to the speed at which he performed transportation based jutsu. His intelligence and skill meant he’d be able to keep up with Kakashi and his easy-going nature meant he wouldn’t take offence at the youth’s often tactless speech. His open and friendly manner would hopefully model the balance necessary to become a good leader while still maintaining discipline in the squad. The Hokage had spoken with Minato at length about the challenges Kakashi was facing. The younger man had agreed to take the boy on. The Hokage was hopeful that they had finally found a place for Kakashi to thrive.

Sakumo hoped he was right. He was getting discouraged by the rumors he heard about Kakashi. He’d caught more than one shinobi ragging on the boy, only to jump guiltily when they realized his father had heard. Sakumo met stammering back peddling with an icy glare of his own, stammered apologies with stony silence. It was beneath shinobi to act in such a manner. You didn’t have to like your teammates but you should at the very least afford them the basic respect they were due as fellow Leaf Shinobi. It had been making for some awkward trips through the village in recent months.

Sakumo knew that as Kakashi got older a great deal of the resentment over his youth would die down. With luck, the boy would learn some tact along the way, to further smooth the process along. Until then, all he could do was hope for the best.

* * *

Kakashi walked away from the Hokage’s office, determinedly _not_ upset at being assigned to yet another team. The past four years had seen him bouncing from team to team, never remaining on a squad for more than a few months at a time. At least he had finally gotten a few solo missions in between hopping teams. He wished he could only carry out solo missions. But the Hokage was still adamant that he needed to be on a squad. It chafed.

It wasn’t that Kakashi didn’t _want_ to work with others. While he was perfectly content to be by himself, he wasn’t opposed to teamwork. It was just that his teammates never wanted to work with him. They saw him as nothing more than an arrogant child, the son of the White Fang who couldn’t possibly have made it this far on his own without his father’s name. Proving he was just as skilled – if not more so – than they, only served to heighten the resentment. He couldn’t win.

He headed towards the designated training field feeling low. It had been four years since he had made chunin and it felt like things would never improve. Even worse, the jonin for this new squad was a student of Jiraiya’s. Kakashi knew his father and Jiraiya had grown up together and had been friends for a very long time. What would his father think when his new jonin leader asked for him to be removed from his team just like everyone else? Picturing the disappointment on his father’s face, Kakashi couldn’t imagine a worse assignment. He had been told that two of his former classmates from the Academy would also be on his team. As if that was supposed to make him somehow feel better. He felt as if he was not only not moving forward, but sliding backwards.

Kakashi sighed as he trudged up the hill where he could see three figures moving through what appeared to be some sort of training exercise. The sun was behind them so he couldn’t make out their identities as he squinted at them. It was already midafternoon. He could have put meeting his new team off until the following morning but decided to get it over with He might as well get all the bad news out of the way in one afternoon.

The two smaller figures – the genin, Kakashi figured – suddenly turned and headed into the woods across the field from him. _Stealth exercise?_ He mused. Kakashi was already adept at concealing his movements. It was a basic skill taught early on in the Academy. A shinobi who couldn’t move through enemy territory undetected was not a very effective one. If his new teammates hadn’t even mastered that basic skill yet… This was going to be worse than he thought.

The remaining figure had turned and started walking towards him. As he approached, Kakashi estimated he was in his early twenties. He had blond hair and bright blue eyes. He stopped a few yards away and smiled. Kakashi wasn’t fooled by the easy smile for a minute. He could see the way the other’s gaze swept over him, assessing.

“You must be Kakashi,” he said pleasantly. “I’m Minato Namikaze. I didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow.”

“Lord Third suggested I come over and meet my new squad,” Kakashi said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

“I see. We’re getting ready to wrap it up for today but come on and meet the others.” If he noticed the resentment in Kakashi’s voice, he gave no indication of it as he motioned him to the middle of the training field. Kakashi followed, steeling himself. He was not looking forward to this.

“Kakashi?” came a familiar voice. Kakashi turned and saw Obito bounding towards him. “ _You’re_ our new teammate?”

“Yeah…” Kakashi suddenly recalled the horrifying conversation they’d had several months ago, where Obito had offered to be on his squad and had mused that Guy should be their third teammate. _Oh no! No, no, no, no, no!_ Kakashi got along well enough with Guy, even though his constant challenges could get tiresome. But being on a team with his where he would be unable to escape his self-proclaimed eternal rival’s challenges… He shuddered inwardly.

His fears were alleviated a moment later when the third member of their squad appeared.

“Kakashi? What are you doing here?” Rin asked.

“He’s out new teammate!” Obito said, excitedly.

“Really?”

“It seems all of you are already acquainted,” Minato cut in with another easy smile.

“We were in the Academy together,” Kakashi replied.

“Well, Obito, Rin, Kakashi, that’s all for today. I’ll see all three of you back here tomorrow morning and we can begin working on some teamwork exercises.”

“Yes, sensei,” the three chorused.

“This is so cool!” Obito said, throwing an arm around Kakashi’s shoulders as they headed away from the training area. “I can’t believe you’re on our team!”

“But, Kakashi, I thought you were a chunin,” Rin said as they left the field.

“Yeah,” Obito said. “What gives?”

Kakashi sighed. “Lord Third thinks I’m still too young to handle many solo missions. As if my age has a damn thing to do with anything!”

“Have any babysitting assignments recently?” Obito snickered.

Kakashi glared. It had been almost five years already! Was he _ever_ going to live that mission down? “Shut up!”

“Babysitting?” Rin asked, confused as Obito laughed.

“Yeah, you see, when Kakashi was a genin –“

“Don’t you dare!” Kakashi protested.

Obito just grinned and began recounting the tale, with way too much zeal for Kakashi’s taste, as they headed back to the village. Rin laughed, but softly and not unkindly as he finished. Maybe, Kakashi thought, this assignment wouldn’t be so intolerable after all.

* * *

Several weeks later, Minato watched as his genin walked off the training field. Obito and Kakashi were bickering, as usual; Rin trying to mediate and keep peace between them. He sighed. They weren’t bad kids, he mused. Just young. Unfortunately, Kakashi and Obito were polar opposites, often leading to conflict between them. They were friends and he knew Kakashi had been helping Obito with his ninja training, but they still had a hard time coming together as a team. He ran a hand through his spiky blond hair and shook his head slightly. He would just have to keep working with them.

The Hokage had requested he take on Kakashi personally. He had explained the trouble the young chunin had experienced, his being moved from team to team, never fitting in on any of them. The constant shuffling was taking its toll on the youth, no matter how hard he tried to act indifferent and pretend it wasn’t. Kakashi desperately needed stability and the Hokage was hopeful that Minato would be the one who could provide it. Kakashi was an extremely talented shinobi; he was intelligent and quick to learn and highly skilled. Minato found it exciting to watch as the boy seemed to absorb knowledge and new skills like a sponge. The White Fang was a legend in the Hidden Leaf. There was no doubt in Minato’s mind that his son would one day match or even surpass him.

Speaking of…

Minato turned as the presence he’d felt waiting out of sight nearby began moving closer. As the man came into view, Minato was struck by how _ordinary_ he appeared. Every shinobi in the Hidden Leaf knew of the White Fang. His power surpassed even that of the legendary Sannin. One almost expected a living legend to appear – well – legendary. As it was, the other was a handsome man in his early to mid-thirties with dark eyes that missed nothing. He was dressed in the standard uniform preferred by many Hidden Leaf shinobi with the single addition of a red-tipped white sleeve on his flak jacket. Unruly silver hair would have been in his eyes if not for his headband and the back was long and pulled up into a simple pony-tail that hung midway down his back. His posture was slightly slouched with his hands in the front pockets of his trousers as if he hadn’t a care in the world. The resemblance between father and son was remarkable. There could be no doubt in Minato’s mind who this was even if he hadn’t been expecting him.

“So, you’re Minato Namikaze, heralded as the Yellow Flash of the Leaf,” Sakumo said as he halted a short distance away. His expression was open and his stance relaxed but Minato wasn’t fooled. Sakumo’s gaze was sharp and assessing. Not a single detail went unnoticed. “Kakashi’s latest jonin instructor. Jiraiya speaks quite highly of you.”

“Uh, thank you for agreeing to meet with me,” Minato said, flushing slightly at the praise. He greatly admired his former teacher and was pleased that a man he looked up to thought highly of him. He was slightly awed by Sakumo as well. The Sannin and the White Fang were shinobi known throughout the ninja world. Training the child of such a legend was more than slightly daunting. He forced his nervousness down. “I wanted to speak with you regarding Kakashi,” Minato continued cautiously.

If Sakumo noticed the younger man’s nervousness, he didn’t show any indication of it. “Lord Hokage filled me in on his reasons for assigning Kakashi to your squad. He was hopeful that you’ll be able to get through to him where others have not.” His gaze traveled to the path the genin had taken away from the training field. “Kakashi has not had an easy time settling in on a team. Teamwork does not come naturally to him. He tends to have unnaturally high expectations of his teammates and gets angry and frustrated when they do not live up to his standards. For all his skill he still has much to learn about being a shinobi. But they are things I cannot teach him; he has to learn them for himself.” He gave a humorless smile at the look on Minato’s face. “Do you think I do not know my own son? Kakashi is smart and talented. But he’s also inflexible and stubborn to a fault at times.”

“Of course you know Kakashi better than anyone. Lord Hokage has filled me in on the difficulties he has been having with fitting in on a team for any length of time. Kakashi is leagues ahead of his peers in terms of his skill and intelligence. Which is part of the problem.” Minato sighed. “He does value his teammates. But he lacks the desire to work as a team. No – that’s not it. Not exactly. His skills far surpass the others so he feels he can do it better on his own. Or he realizes that they can’t keep up with him and doesn’t want them in harm’s way. Or getting in his way. It’s been… difficult trying to get him to see that they would all benefit from working together rather than him trying to do everything on his own. Even if their skills aren’t on his level, they can still help and support one another.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “I think he’s afraid of losing his teammates so he tries to take all the responsibility onto himself. I’m afraid I haven’t yet been able to figure out how to get through to him.” He raised his head and met Sakumo’s gaze squarely. “But that doesn’t mean that I won’t.” His tone was determined.

Sakumo could see why the Hokage had placed Kakashi with Minato. Kakashi may have just met his match with stubbornness with this young jonin. Minato Namikaze may just be able to get through to his stubborn son where so many others had failed. He chuckled softly, surprising the younger man. “It would seem that Jiraiya and Lord Hokage were on to something after all when they assigned Kakashi to you.” He sobered. “However, you didn’t ask me to come out here just to tell me all this.”

“You’re right, I didn’t. I’d like to take Kakashi with me on a mission. With your permission.”

“Isn’t that what a jonin instructor is supposed to be doing with their team?” Sakumo asked dryly. He wished the younger man wasn’t so nervous. It was disconcerting how people sometimes acted around him – as if he was some sort of living legend rather than an ordinary man. “You hardly need my permission for that.”

“Yes, of course,” Minato flushed. He wasn’t certain how what he was about to propose was going to go over. “But I’m thinking just the two of us. On an “A” ranked mission.”

Sakumo raised an eyebrow at that. “’A’ ranked? Are you certain Kakashi’s up for that?”

“No. Which is the entire point.” Minato swallowed as Sakumo simply waited for him to explain. “Kakashi is used to being the best in his squad. He’s accustomed to trying to handle things himself. I want to put him in the place his teammates are in – the ones not as skilled, who rely on their team for help and support in order to accomplish their mission.”

“You want to force Kakashi in over his head,” Sakumo said, pursing his lips slightly. It was an interesting idea, if unconventional. Unconventional was often the best way to deal with Kakashi and Minato seemed to have figured that out.

“I want to show him that even if he’d be overwhelmed alone, he can still contribute and support his teammates. Perhaps that will show him that the others can still help him and he doesn’t have to keep trying to handle everything alone.”

“I see,” Sakumo said. He had reservations, of course. He was a father first and foremost and Kakashi was his only child. His instinct was to protect him at all cost. Kakashi was also a shinobi, a chunin bound to make jonin shortly. He needed to allow his son to learn, even if it meant failure along the way. He considered the blond jonin before him. Minato was the first jonin instructor Kakashi _hadn’t_ spoken of in derisive tones. The boy actually had respect for him, which alone was enough to make Sakumo take note. Jiraiya had bragged to Sakumo about his student and he’d heard the talk amongst the other jonin for himself. Minato met his gaze steadily, his blue eyes never wavering. Sakumo could see the conviction in them, the desire to help his student. “Do as you see fit,” Sakumo finally relented. “Just bring my son home safely.”

Minato smiled. “I will. You have my word I’ll protect him.”

* * *

Kakashi checked over the items he had laid out on his bed, making certain he hadn’t forgotten anything before he began stowing them in his backpack. He was feeling rather smug. Minato-sensei wanted _him_ to accompany him on an ‘A’-ranked mission. He was a bit nervous. While he was secure in his own abilities, he’d never been on a high-ranked mission before. A-rank were usually reserved for experienced jonin. Kakashi was still a chunin, though he knew that he’d make jonin once he got some more experience. There weren’t many better ways to prove he was ready to advance than this!

He grinned as he buckled his pack shut and checked his weapons pouch once again. He’d checked it three times already but he wanted to make absolutely certain he was well-prepared. It wouldn’t do to let Minato-sensei down by not having enough weapons on hand when he needed them. Not for such an important mission. He had a stack of explosive tags, a bunch of smoke bombs, and more shuriken and kunai than he could count in a glance. He closed the pouch, making certain it was secure but he could still easily get his hand into it.

He set the pack and weapons pouch aside, easily grabbed when it was time to leave tomorrow. He was finally, _finally_ getting a chance to show what he could do. Morning couldn’t get here fast enough.


	12. Chapter 12

Minato glanced back at Kakashi out of the corner of his eye. The boy trailed behind him as they walked down the path that would return them to the Hidden Leaf. His head was bowed, his gaze fixed on the ground before him, his face twisted into a fierce scowl. He was clearly angry and upset. Minato was unsurprised. Kakashi was accustomed to being the best, to handling situations that his peers could never hope to. The mission had gone as he had expected, forcing Kakashi into a situation where he was in over his head. He was not taking it well.

“Kakashi,” Minato said, deciding that he had been brooding long enough.

“Yes, Minato-sensei?” He looked up, expression going blank. It was a bit disconcerting, Minato thought, how well Kakashi was able to hide his emotions when he wanted to. Budding genius shinobi or not, it was unnatural in a child his age.

“You did well out there.”

Kakashi scowled. “I would have gotten killed if you hadn’t –“ He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. He was displeased with his own performance on their mission. He had been so excited to finally go on a real mission and he’d blown it. If he’d been alone he’d be dead right now. It had been a sobering and eye-opening experience. Until now, Kakashi had never doubted his own skills before. His confidence had been badly shaken. It was not a feeling he enjoyed.

“I know. That was the entire point.”

Kakashi halted as he stared up at the blond jonin. “What?” he asked, certain he had misheard.

Minato knew what he was going to say was not going to be well received. But the entire point of this exercise had been to teach Kakashi that teamwork was important and that he needed his teammates, even if they didn’t match his skill. “I knew you would be in over your head.”

Kakashi simply stared at him for several moments, dumbfounded. Minato-sensei had _wanted_ him to fail? The bitterness of betrayal welled up within him. He had liked and respected Minato, thought he was different from the other jonin leaders who had resented him or simply dismissed him out of hand. How could he have been so wrong? His other instructors may have wanted him to fail, but none had ever set him up to do so in such a cruel way. “W – why?” he finally managed to choke out past the tightness in this throat.

Minato’s expression softened at the hurt on the boy’s face. For all that he was a brilliant shinobi, he was still a ten-year old child. “Because you needed to learn. You are an extremely talented shinobi, Kakashi. It’s true that your abilities far surpass your peers and teammates. But that doesn’t mean you don’t need them. It doesn’t mean you can do everything on your own. I wanted you to experience what Obito and Rin feel while on missions with you. They may not possess your skill, but they are not useless.” He continued walking, giving the boy time to process his words. For all his hurt and anger, Kakashi wasn’t stupid. Given some time to mull things over, he’d understand what Minato had been trying to accomplish. At least, he certainly hoped so. It was hard to say how Kakashi would react sometimes and the last thing Minato wanted was to create friction and resentment among the team.

Kakashi remained silent as they continued their journey back to the village. Minato had to forcibly stomp down the urge to put a hand on his shoulder and reassure the sulky boy. Kakashi was not like his other students. He didn’t like being touched and wouldn’t welcome soothing words right now. It went against Minato’s nature – he hated to see his student so upset – but he let Kakashi be. He would talk when he was ready; Minato would help him best by waiting until he was ready to do so.

* * *

Sakumo knelt in the large garden that was set to the side of the house, tending the plants there while he waited for his son to return home. Kakashi was due back any minute from the ‘A’-ranked mission Minato Namikaze had taken him on. Sakumo was secure in Kakashi’s skill as a shinobi but that didn’t keep him from worrying. Kakashi still lacked experience and ‘A’-ranked missions were only assigned to experienced jonin or squads led by such. Minato was young, but was already making a name for himself among the shinobi of the Hidden Leaf. Kakashi actually respected the man; he was the _only_ jonin-leader who had earned the boy’s respect. Curious, Sakumo had made a point to learn more about the younger man. From what he learned, it seemed that his son’s respect was well-earned but that didn’t mean he didn’t worry for his son’s safety.

He absently wiped the back of his hand across an itch on his cheek, leaving a smudge of dirt behind. His hands and clothes were streaked with dirt. Sakumo found the work soothing. He had recently returned from the front and would be returning again shortly. He welcomed the calming break from the war that the Hidden Leaf was embroiled in. The garden had been planted years ago by his great-grandparents when they had first come to the Hidden Leaf. A reminder of their clan’s lost heritage.

The Hatake Clan had not always been a shinobi clan. In generations past, just as the name suggested, they had been farmers and growers, working their lands to provide rich harvests. The Clan had always been small and humble, but proud of their simple lives and hard work and loyalty. They had been all but wiped out during the Warring States Era; the Clan Wars decimating their already small numbers. The larger clans had overrun their ancestral lands, destroying their fields and orchards and slaughtering the all but defenseless people. After the Wars had ended and the Hidden Leaf had been established, the few remaining Hatake had settled in the newly-formed village. They laid down the tools of their agrarian lives and took up the weapons of the shinobi, trading their ancestral fields for the safety and security the village walls offered in exchange for their service.

Not being a large or prominent Clan and having no secret Clan jutsu or kekkei genkai, those who had settled in the village did not have their own district or compound. Modest houses with large gardens or small orchards set away from the bustle of the village center had suited them quite well. Though they no longer planted or harvested large fields full of crops, all children were still taught the secrets of growing things. Perhaps in the hopes of one day returning to a simpler - or at least less violent - life.

After the Hidden Villages had been established, there had been a brief peace. Then the First Shinobi War had all but wiped out the remainder of the small Clan. Now only Sakumo and Kakashi remained.

Though often neglected when he was away for extended periods, Sakumo had always been able to bring the garden back to life. A talent for coaxing plants to not only grow but flourish was as much of a Hatake Clan trait as a somewhat unhealthy dose of stubbornness and unruly silver hair.

“You don’t have to walk me home, Sensei,” came Kakashi’s petulant voice.

Sakumo was relieved. If his son could complain, then he likely wasn’t hurt. Other than perhaps his pride, Sakumo reminded himself, recalling the entire reason for this mission. He stood, dusting the loose soil from his hands. He walked to the front of the house just in time to see Kakashi and his jonin instructor approaching. His son appeared to be sulking. Not surprising, Sakumo mused. Kakashi had never taken failure well. He gave a welcoming smile as they reached the house.

“How was your mission?” he asked.

“Fine,” Kakashi said shortly.

“I’ll see you in two days,” Minato said to Kakashi.

“Yes, sensei.” Kakashi turned and sketched a short bow to Minato before heading inside. Minato watched him go with a soft sigh. He turned his gaze from the door Kakashi had disappeared through to find Sakumo’s weighted gaze on him.

“How did it really go?”

“About as I expected,” Minato replied honestly. “Kakashi handled himself well, even when he was outnumbered and outmatched.” His expression dimmed. “He’s angry with me right now. I suppose I can’t really blame him. It was an unfair situation to put him in.”

“We are shinobi. Fair doesn’t enter into it,” Sakumo said flatly.

“I know, but –“

“Would you have rather left things as they were?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then stop second guessing yourself! Kakashi _needs_ to learn to work _with_ others. You may have finally succeeded where everyone else thus far had failed and made him understand the why. Now you just have to work on the how.”

Minato sheepishly ran a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn’t certain if he’d just been praised or insulted or perhaps it had been a bit of both. Even with hands and clothes covered in dirt and a smudge across his cheek, Sakumo still intimidated him. He knew it was foolish, but he couldn’t help it; even Jiraiya admitted he wouldn’t challenge the White Fang without good reason. Minato had thought Jiraiya had been exaggerating until he had met the man himself. An air of quiet confidence surrounded him. Sakumo was someone who knew their own power and felt no need to boast about it.

“That should be interesting,” slipped out quietly before Minato realized he had spoken his thoughts out loud.

“Well, I’m certain you’ll figure it out,” Sakumo said.

“Uh. Yes… Of course.” Minato flushed slightly. He hadn’t meant to give voice to his thoughts.

Sakumo resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the younger man’s nervousness. It wasn’t like he was going to bite his head off. Probably. Though he might if he didn’t relax a bit. “You’re the first jonin-instructor that Kakashi actually respects. He listens to you and values your opinion.” He nearly smirked at the shock on Minato’s face. Kakashi would be properly respectful to Minato as his instructor, of course. Sakumo knew his son; he suspected he didn’t show more than polite indifference to his face. Kakashi would _never_ admit to Minato that he actually liked him. 

“I –“ Minato didn’t know what to say to that.

“Good luck,” Sakumo said, turning to head inside himself. “You’re going to need it.”

* * *

“What was it like going on an ‘A’-ranked mission with Minato-sensei?” Obito asked, practically bursting to hear all about Kakashi’s latest adventure. Hearing about Kakashi’s missions served to push Obito to train even harder. He was determined to catch up to the other so he could go on better missions, too. The next round of chunin exams was approaching and Obito was determined to pass this time after failing at his first attempt.

Kakashi shrugged. “It was a mission. That’s all. Nothing special.”

Obito rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Kakashi! Even you’ve never been on an ‘A’-rank before! What was it like? Did you fight enemy ninja? How many? Is Minato-sensei really as good as everyone says?” he asked rapid-fire.

Kakashi sighed, resigning himself to answering Obito’s questions. He’d get no peace until he did. “We encountered some enemies,” Kakashi conceded. “I don’t know how many – a lot.”

“Coooool!” Obito breathed, wide-eyed. “I heard Minato-sensei is really fast. I bet he ran circles around you!” he teased.

“Well, he’s not called the Yellow Flash for nothing, you know,” Kakashi huffed.

Obito snickered. Needling Kakashi never got old. He didn’t do it to be mean. The other boy was simply entirely too serious for his own good. And he made it so, so easy sometimes.

“You know what’d be super awesome?” Obito mused a few minutes later. “Seeing Minato-sensei take on the White Fang! I wonder who’d win.”

“Meh. Dad could take him,” Kakashi replied absently.

“Huh? Who said anything about…?“ Obito trailed off as he remembered that Kakashi rarely misspoke. He replayed the last few moments in his mind. Then he turned and took a hard look at his teammate - silver hair, lightning chakra, and a genius by anyone’s standards… His mouth fell open as he suddenly recalled the White Fang’s given name, which he had completely forgotten until that moment – Sakumo… Hatake. And the only other person he’d heard of with that surname… “Your dad’s the White Fang?” he demanded.

“Yeah.”

“Seriously?” Obito tried to reconcile the reputation of the White Fang with the kind man with the easy, welcoming smile that he’d met a handful of times when he’d hung out at Kakashi’s. He’d always known Kakashi’s father was a high level jonin but he’d never made the connection before now. “Why –?“ he sputtered. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?!”

“It wasn’t important.”

“Wasn’t important!? Are you nuts?! That’s so cool! Why _wouldn’t_ you tell everyone!?”

Kakashi frowned, not understanding the other’s consternation. He never mentioned it because he didn’t want people assuming he had gotten to where he was because of his father’s name. In idolizing his father, Kakashi had also picked up some of his personality traits. In spite of his power and fame, Sakumo was a kind and humble man. He never felt the need to boast about his prowess, never threw his name or reputation around demanding recognition. Even though Kakashi looked up to his father and admired him greatly, at the end of the day, he was simply “Dad”. To his son, Sakumo was the man who sometimes over- or under-cooked dinner, who had first taught him to throw a kunai, who had tucked him in at night when he was little (and still did sometimes when he thought Kakashi was already asleep), who beamed with quiet pride at his son’s accomplishments, even as his eyes clouded with worry.

“Because Dad’s just… Dad?” Kakashi replied.

Obito shook his head. Sometimes he just didn’t understand Kakashi at all.

“Can I ask you something?” Kakashi suddenly said.

“Duh!” Obito sobered as he realized that Kakashi was fidgeting. Kakashi didn’t fidget. Whatever was on his mind was bothering him greatly. He sobered. “Yeah, sure. What is it?”

“Am… am I difficult to work with?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“The mission I went on with Minato-sensei... He said the whole point of it was to put me in over my head so I’d understand how you and Rin feel being on a team with me.” He lowered his gaze to the ground. “I – am I… am I really that awful?”

Obito was silent. Kakashi felt his heart sink. Was that why he kept getting shuffled around? Had he been the problem all along but he’d been too arrogant to see it? He swallowed hard and bit the inside of his cheek. It would be a bitter pill to swallow.

Kakashi jumped as Obito placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked up reluctantly, not wanting to see the scorn in his friend’s face but knowing he deserved it. Instead of disgust, Obito was smiling, warm and friendly. “For being a genius, you sure are stupid sometimes.”

“Huh?”

“Well sure you can be a bit of a prick sometimes. I get it, you’re jealous of how awesome I am,” Obito said with a grin. He shook his head. “Seriously, Kakashi, you’re a bit uptight but you’re not a total jerk or anything. You just keep trying to do everything yourself.”

“That’s what Minato-sensei said.”

“So why do you do it?”

Kakashi was quiet for several long moments. He wasn’t used to opening up about his feelings and he was having trouble finding the right words to explain what he didn’t even fully understand himself. “I just… I want to protect you and Rin,” he finally said slowly. “The Hidden Leaf is at war. It’s only a matter of time before we’re sent out into it. I… I don’t want to lose you guys…”

“Lord Third isn’t going to send a bunch of kids to the front for a long time yet. The War will be over before we’re sent out,” Obito declared confidently. “It’s too bad, too because I really want to show what I can do! All my training’s been paying off big time!” He laughed. “Besides, do you really think it’s going to be _that_ easy to get rid of me? You just wait, Kakashi! Someday soon my Sharingan will awaken! And then _I’ll_ be leaving _you_ in the dust!”

Kakashi managed a weak smile. He desperately hoped Obito was right. He recalled his father returning recently, his grim expression as he told Kakashi he’d be heading back to the War soon and has the sinking feeling that he wasn’t.


	13. Chapter 13

Minato smiled as his team went their separate ways upon returning to the Hidden Leaf. Their latest mission had been a success. What pleased him even more was the change in Kakashi over the past few months. The young chunin appeared to have taken the lessons Minato had tried to teach him to heart. He was allowing his teammates to work with him rather than leaving them behind. They were finally becoming a cohesive team. It wasn’t perfect and at times he still fell back to his old habits, but there was definite improvement.

Minato knew it had been a hard lesson for the proud and stubborn boy to learn. But he _had_ learned and was making a concentrated effort to incorporate it into his missions with his team. Minato was extremely proud of him. He made a mental note to tell his father the next time he saw him. When Kakashi wasn’t around, of course. The prickly little genius could get strangely touchy over the oddest things. Like being praised to his father. After some of the disparaging comments he’d heard about Kakashi himself from other jonin, Minato wasn’t surprised the boy was defensive.

In spite of the doubts he had secretly harbored when the Hokage had asked him to take Kakashi onto his team, Minato was glad he had done so. The boy could still be tetchy and obstinate but had shown he was willing to listen and learn and adapt, even if it was difficult for him admit he needed to. Minato aspired to the Hokage’s seat himself one day. If he couldn’t even get his student to understand the importance of teamwork then he had no business being Hokage. How could he hope to lead a village if he couldn’t even keep his team in harmony?

Grinning, he made a mental note to tell Kushina of the teamwork they had shown on this last mission. His wife had been nothing but supportive and encouraging even when he was plagued with doubts. She had never once doubted that he would find a way to get through to Kakashi. She’d be pleased to hear she had been right. As usual, he thought, amused.

* * *

“Hey, Kakashi!” Guy cried enthusiastically as he ran up to the other. “Long time no see!”

“I’ve been busy,” Kakashi said. “I heard you made chunin. Congratulations.”

Guy beamed. “Thanks! In celebration, I have a favor to ask.”

“I’m really not up to any challenges today,” Kakashi said, hoping to head off Guy’s enthusiastic continuation of their rivalry. He had just returned from a solo mission and was looking forward to going home and going to bed. He knew his father was still out on his own assignment. Kakashi had vague recollections of his father being gone for long stretches of time when he had been very young, fighting in the Second Shinobi War. He did not recall the grim expression on his father’s features that he now so often wore. Though Sakumo had never voiced it out loud, Kakashi knew he was worried that he and his peers would be sent into battle.

Kakashi wasn’t sure how he felt about the prospect himself. He had killed – he had been a chunin for five years after all - though he had never been in a full scale pitched battle before. As the Third Shinobi War dragged on, some of his peers had begun expressing frustration at remaining in the village and only being assigned missions well within the Land of Fire’s borders. Kakashi was in no hurry to go to the front. Sakumo spoke little of the time he had spent at war other than to express his disgust at it, to state that he hoped his son would never see and experience the horrors that he had. Seeing his father’s expression darken, his eyes go cold, had been enough to put Kakashi off of any foolish notions of wartime heroics. If what he’d seen and done affected his father so deeply, he suspected he was better off never experiencing it for himself.

Guy was speaking again. “I don’t want to do a challenge today.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Kakashi asked, concerned. He was convinced something must be terribly wrong if Guy didn’t want to engage in some sort of challenge in their rivalry. Kakashi couldn’t have cared less about it, but Guy was emphatic about keeping score. Considering their contests ranged from taijutsu to races to eating contests to rock paper scissors, the score really wasn’t indicative of anything but it was extremely important to Guy so Kakashi went along with it.

“I’m fine,” Guy said, brushing Kakashi’s concern aside. “I was wondering…”

“What?”

“Well… I heard you can perform the summoning jutsu. Will you teach me how?” Guy asked in a rush.

Kakashi was surprised by the request. Guy _was_ capable of using ninjutsu, albeit not much and not well. His ninjutsu skills were so poor that he tended not to bother using it at all in favor of his very formidable taijutsu.

“I can show you the jutsu. But it’s not easy,” Kakashi cautioned. He didn’t want to get Guy’s hopes up only to be dashed when he couldn’t perform the complex jutsu. “It’s pretty high-level ninjutsu…”

“I don’t care! I want to try! Please, Kakashi!”

“Okay.” Kakashi couldn’t say no in the face of Guy’s enthusiasm. He wasn’t sure the other boy would even be able to perform a summoning jutsu. He’d have to let him find out the hard way. He’d learned that once Guy had his mind set on doing something, he wouldn’t give up the idea until he succeeded, even if he failed a hundred times. His perseverance was one thing Kakashi had always admired in him. What Guy lacked in talent, he more than made up for in sheer determination.

“Thanks, Kakashi!” Guy’s face broke out into a huge grin.

“Not tonight, though,” Kakashi said before Guy could get too excited. “I just got back and I’m going home to get cleaned up and sleep.”

Guy’s expression dimmed, then brightened again. “Of course! We can’t have you at anything less than your best, my eternal rival!”

“I’ll meet you tomorrow morning outside Hokage Tower.”

“I’ll be there at dawn!”

Kakashi sighed. He was an early riser but he was certainly not going to get up before the sun for this. “How about a somewhat more reasonable hour?” he said. “Like after breakfast at least.”

Guy waved a dismissive hand. “See you tomorrow!”

“Not at dawn!” Kakashi called after him as he scampered off. Kakashi shook his head as he headed towards home. There was no doubt that Guy would be waiting at dawn.

* * *

Kakashi arrived at their appointed meeting spot the following morning to find Guy waiting impatiently for him.

“Kakashi!” Guy cried, face breaking out into his customary grin. “It’s about time you got here! I’ve already done five hundred push-ups, three hundred sit-ups, and another two hundred finger push-ups waiting for you! So, what are the hand signs? How do we start?”

Kakashi held up a hand to slow Guy’s rapid-fire questions. “First, we’ll have to figure out what type of creature you should summon,” he said.

Guy’s brow furrowed. “Why can’t I just call the same one you do?”

“Because dogs are a bit different. They’ll only appear as puppies if you’re young. Besides, I still have their scroll.” He had been practicing summoning his pack of ninja hounds without using the summoning scroll for the past couple of years. He could manage it almost all of the time now. He still carried the scroll with his gear, just in case. It wouldn’t due to need his hounds and be unable to call them while on a mission or when he needed them most. It was a bit irritating to have not completely mastered the jutsu yet, but Kakashi knew his limitations. His father had explained that it would take a lot of time and a lot of practice before he wouldn’t ever need the scroll. He was still proud to have gotten as far as he had with it. Not many eleven year olds could boast to having an entire pack of ninken at their beck and call.

Guy looked disappointed. “Oh. Well… what animal should we try, then?”

“Let’s go see what contracts are around,” Kakashi said. They headed towards the Hokage’s library. The chunin in charge of the library frowned at them as they entered. Kakashi smiled benignly at her, the picture of perfect innocence. He was here often enough that the staff all knew him and knew he was permitted access to all but the forbidden jutsu scrolls and books. She eyed Guy for a moment, then waved them past with a warning look.

A few minutes of searching the shelves turned up a niche in which scrolls containing summoning contracts were kept. Kakashi pulled them out and began reading the labels. Guy was bouncing on his toes in excitement beside him. Kakashi quietly warned him to calm down or they’d risk getting kicked out.

“Let’s see…” he murmured absently as he sorted through them. “tiger… wolf…. bear…”

“Those all sound really cool!” Guy exclaimed. “Come on, Kakashi! Let’s try one!”

“Wait!” Kakashi said. “We want to make sure we get it right.” Privately, he was trying to find the least dangerous creature he could. On the off chance that Guy was actually able to summon something he didn’t want it to be powerful enough to cause too much harm. The summoning contract did not mean that the summoned creature had to obey the summoner or that they were under their control. They were still intelligent creatures and sometimes resented being summoned by shinobi. Summoned creatures had even been known to kill those who had summoned them. Those scrolls were kept with the forbidden jutsu for a reason. Even a more benign creature could still cause trouble if they weren’t careful. “Here we go! How about this?” Kakashi said triumphantly, holding up a scroll.

Guy took it from him. His smile faded as he read it. “A tortoise? How lame!”

“No, it’s perfect!”

“How so?” Guy challenged. Kakashi wasn’t one to make fun of him, unlike many of the other kids. But he didn’t see anything _not_ lame about a tortoise as a summons.

“Think about it,” Kakashi said. “You had to work hard to get to where you are, right? But you never gave up and kept working. Slow and steady. Just like a tortoise!”

Guy considered Kakashi’s words. He knew how hard he had to work better than anyone. And when Kakashi put it like that… maybe it did sound kind of cool after all. “Alright,” he agreed. “Let’s try it!”

“Not in here!” Kakashi took the scroll back and tucked it into his shirt and they left the library.

They headed to Guy’s house, the new chunin not wanting others to see what they were up to. Guy had endured years of his peers’ mockery over his lack of ninjutsu and genjutsu. The first time he had met Kakashi, the other boy had been dismissive of his attempt to enter the Leaf Ninja Academy. Once he had been accepted, Kakashi had been the only student who didn’t sneer at him in class.

Guy had been more than a bit in awe of his genius classmate. He knew Kakashi was the son of the legendary White Fang of the Leaf and it was soon apparent that he had inherited much of his father’s skill. While the other students mocked him, Kakashi mostly ignored him. Guy had fixated on the other, determined to become good enough to challenge him. He had lost his initial challenges to Kakashi spectacularly. Yet he continued to challenge him, convinced that his hard work _had_ to pay off.

And it had. Guy was now usually able to hold his own against Kakashi in taijutsu and he often won some of their more unconventional contests. Somewhere along the way they had become not only rivals but friends as well.

Once they were situated in the yard, Kakashi pulled the summoning scroll from beneath his shirt. “First, you have to sign the contract in blood,” Kakashi explained. “Then each time you want to summon, you need to cut yourself. Just a little bit,” he added hastily, seeing the other boy pale. “Then you need the correct hand signs. Boar. Dog. Bird, Money, Ram.” He formed the correct signs as he spoke. “You have to lay your hand flat and channel chakra through it. The more chakra, the larger the summons. Like this.” He bit his thumb and wove the hand signs, placing his hand on the ground. Pakkun appeared.

“Hi, Kakashi!” he said in a surprisingly deep voice for such a small creature. The ninja hound had grown and matured in the years since Kakashi had first learned to summon him. “Whatcha need?”

“Just showing Guy how summoning works,” Kakashi explained.

“Oh. Well, if you don’t need me for anything…”

“You can take off. Thanks, Pakkun. See you later.”

“I wanna try!” Guy exclaimed as the pug disappeared. He bit his finger and signed the scroll. Frowning in concentration, he wove the hand signs Kakashi had shown him. He placed his hand on the ground, channeling his chakra through it.

Nothing happened.

He looked over at Kakashi. “What happened?” he asked.

Kakashi shrugged. “Dad told me it doesn’t always work at first. Sometimes it’s a matter of not enough chakra. Or the hand signs are off. Or the creature isn’t available. Or something.”

“You’re saying I can’t do it?”

“No. You may just have to keep trying until you figure it out. Maybe someone else had summoned the same tortoise already.”

“But the scroll was in the library!”

“Once you’ve become proficient, you don’t need the scroll on you any more. It’s possible for more than one person to summon the same type of creature, sometimes even the same creature itself. If it’s already been summoned, it can’t be in two places at once, now can it.”

“I guess not…” Guy was trying to hide his disappointment. He knew his taijutsu was second to none but at times he did wish he had more skill with ninjutsu or genjutsu. He could break a genjutsu – it was only a matter of concentrating and releasing a focused burst of chakra. But he couldn’t cast them at all. His ninjutsu was weak at best. He knew and accepted that was just how things were. But that didn’t mean he didn’t occasionally envy Kakashi. It seemed that the other was good at everything he tried. Guy knew that wasn’t fair and that Kakashi trained and worked hard, too. But he did envy the natural talent he possessed at times.

“Give it another try,” Kakashi encouraged, seeing Guy’s disappointment when his summoning failed. He had no idea if Guy would be able to summon or not but he had seen him overcome seemingly impossible odds before through sheer effort and determination.

“What were the hand signs again?” Guy asked, wanting to be certain he had them correct. Kakashi showed him. Eyes narrowing in concentration, Guy tried the jutsu again. Nothing appeared. “Dammit! What am I doing wrong?”

“I told you it was high level ninjutsu,” Kakashi said. “It’s going to take some practice. You don’t use ninjustu much, so let’s start there. Lemme see your hand signs.”

Guy scowled a bit. Just because he didn’t use ninjustu didn’t mean he didn’t know how to form a proper sign. Though, he conceded, Kakashi may have a point and the other boy was willing to help him. He forced down his annoyance. He knew Kakashi didn’t mean to came off as condescending; he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to help. Guy nodded and they walked through each sign, Kakashi making minute adjustments to them as they did so and he tried again.

* * *

Dai returned home to find his son and Kakashi Hatake sitting in the yard, a scroll spread out on the ground between them. He heartily approved of Kakashi as his son’s friend and rival. The boy was a bit odd, perhaps, with his face hidden and his entirely too serious manner. Yet he had been a good and loyal friend to Guy and always well-mannered. Curious as to what the boys were up to, he strode over and crouched down beside them.

“Hi, Papa!” Guy greeted.

“Hello, sir,” Kakashi said politely.

“What are you two up to?” Dai asked cheerfully.

“Uh… it’s a summoning jutsu,” Guy said hesitantly. He bit his lip, worried that his father wouldn’t approve of his attempting to learn the ninjutsu.

“Oh?” Dai asked, eyebrows raising. “That’s a high-level jutsu, isn’t it?”

“Well… yes.” Guy’s face set in determination. “But I’m gonna learn it! I’m not giving up until I can summon!”

Dai beamed and patted both boys on the head. “Good! With the power of youth, nothing is impossible!”

Kakashi smiled. He liked Guy’s father. He was so different than anyone else he had ever met. He was always cheerful and ignored the opinions of others who mocked him. He was still a genin but it never seemed to bother him that he hadn’t advanced in rank over the years. He encouraged the rivalry between himself and Guy, knowing that it pushed his son to challenge an opponent of Kakashi’s skill. At the same time, he was always welcoming of Kakashi, greeting him with a broad smile and asking about the boys’ most recent contests, equally pleased no matter who won, encouraging the loser to continue working hard and embrace their youth. Kakashi may not have always understood Dai’s passion about youth but he did enjoy his cheerful enthusiasm.

“It’s nearly lunch time. Kakashi, you’ll be joining us, yes.” It wasn’t really a question

“Thank you,” Kakashi said, knowing that arguing would be pointless. He suddenly realized that he _was_ getting a bit hungry. They had been so wrapped up in working on the summoning jutsu that the morning had slipped by without them noticing.

“After lunch I challenge you to a race around the village!” Guy said to Kakashi as they rolled the scroll and headed inside. “We’ve been sitting for so long that I need to work out all my pent-up youthful energy!”

* * *

Kakashi was heading home for the day when he caught sight of Guy sitting on the riverbank alone. Sensing something was wrong, he made his way over. Guy glanced up, the turned his attention back to the water, tossing a stone into it absently.

“What’s wrong?” Kakashi asked as he sat beside Guy. The other boy usually greeted him enthusiastically with shouted challenges and cheerful talk about youth. His subdued posture had Kakashi concerned that something terrible had happened.

“It’s nothing,” Guy said quietly.

Kakashi frowned. “Hey,” he said, nudging Guy with his shoulder. “C’mon, what happened?”

Guy was quiet for a few moments, tossing rocks as he gathered his thoughts. “We got new team assignments today,” he began.

“Don’t tell me I’m stuck with you!” Kakashi said in mock-horror. It elicited a tiny smile that quickly faded.

“No. I’m teamed with Genma and Ebisu.”

“Eh, they’re not such bad guys. You could be stuck with worse.”

“I know. It’s not that. It’s… well… Papa always takes such low-level assignments. I’ve seen him a few times around the village recently… I guess I never realized before… That’s why so many other shinobi are always making fun of him…” He paused. “And today, while we were meeting our new team captain… I overheard…” Kakashi was silent, letting Guy speak at his own pace without prompting. Whatever had happened, it had clearly upset him badly. Guy glanced at Kakashi. He had gotten fairly good at reading the other’s expressions despite the mask. All he could see was genuine concern, no judgment, no mocking. He took a breath and continued. “He was… begging. _Begging_ , Kakashi. Begging not to be dropped as a shinobi.” Guy tossed another stone into the stream. “How could he humiliate himself like that? That’s not what youth is about.”

“Isn’t that how he raised you? I don’t think there’s a cooler shinobi out there. There’s no one quite like your dad.” Guy looked at him sharply but there was no guile in his voice of expression. Kakashi was generally honest, meaning exactly what he said. Kakashi smirked. “Besides, if it wasn’t for your dad, you’d have never challenged me and I wouldn’t be ahead by two points right now.”

“Not for long!” Guy crowed. “I’ve been practicing and I’m gonna beat you next time for certain! In fact, let’s go right now!”

“Don’t get overconfident,” Kakashi cautioned, matching Guy’s grin as they got to their feet and headed for a training field.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final scene is adapted from Shippuden episode #419, "Papa's Youth".


	14. Chapter 14

“Are you familiar with a genin named Might Dai?” Hiruzen asked.

Sakumo considered for a moment. “Based on the name, I’m assuming he’s related to Kakashi’s friend Guy but I’m not familiar with him, no.”

“He’s Guy’s father. Dai has spent his life as a genin. He’s enthusiastic and loyal to the village but he seems to lack any real talent for being a shinobi. It’s been recommended to me that he be removed from being a shinobi altogether.”

Sakumo was surprised. Very few shinobi were stripped of their rank in the Hidden Leaf. Those who betrayed or left the village without leave were considered rogue ninja. Usually, a shinobi died; most likely in the line of duty, sometimes from assassination, or very occasionally from old age. Only committing a crime against the village would cause someone who was already a shinobi to be removed from their position. Though Sakumo was also not familiar with many shinobi around his age still being genin, either. Genin who were unable to make chunin by their late teens to early twenties generally retired to pursue other careers.

The sole exception Sakumo was aware of was Kosuke Maruboshi. Sakumo had worked with him before and had been shocked to learn he was a genin. His skills were easily jonin-level. Sakumo had later learned that Kosuke had chosen to remain a genin after giving an order that had led to his teammates deaths when he had been young. The Second Hokage had refused to allow him to wallow in self-pity and expected him to continue training, even expecting him to learn the jutsu he had developed. Kosuke had been offered promotion to jonin many times by both the Second and Third Hokages and had turned it down each and every time. Even with his status as a genin, Kosuke was still respected by the shinobi of the Leaf Village and often specifically requested for missions by squad captains. That did not seem to be the case with Dai, however.

“Why tell me this?” he asked.

“Because I have a favor to ask of you.” The Hokage paused. Sakumo wasn’t going to like this. “I would ask that you take Dai along with you on your next mission.”

“I can’t take a genin with me on a mission. He’ll get killed.” It wasn’t pride speaking. Sakumo was among the most powerful shinobi in the Hidden Leaf Village. The missions he carried out were high ranked and among the most dangerous. Most of the time he went out on missions by himself simply because there were so few capable of keeping up with him. Sakumo would hesitate to take Kakashi on most of his missions and his son was a capable shinobi in his own right already. To take along a genin, especially one who by all accounts was an unskilled ninja, was asking for trouble. Anyone who went on a mission with him needed to be able to look after themselves at the very least. It was the main reason he had never become a jonin leader. The village couldn’t afford for him to not go on the missions he was accustomed to but it was far too dangerous for genin or even chunin to accompany him.

“I am well aware of that. I do have something in mind that needs a shinobi of your reputation rather than your skill. It is an A-ranked mission due to its importance and sensitive nature. I do not anticipate you’ll run into hostilities beyond normal highwaymen on the road.” At Sakumo’s frown, Hiruzen continued. “I would ask that you do this as a personal favor for me. It would be difficult for Dai to find alternate employment should he be dropped. His son just made chunin and supporting them would be a terrible burden for one so young. Successfully completing a mission above ‘D’ ranked would help him a great deal.”

“Why me? Why not some other jonin?”

“Frankly, because you are the only one who I believe would even consider my request. You are a fair man, Sakumo. You don’t allow prejudice or preconception to cloud your judgement - you base it on skill alone. If, when you return, you tell me that Dai should be dropped, I will do so.”

Sakumo sighed softly. He knew this was not something the Hokage was asking of him lightly. He didn’t really want to do it but he also thought about how he’d feel should the burden of providing for them fall upon Kakashi’s shoulders. Sakumo had been a jonin for many years, carrying out top ranked missions. With corresponding pay. He lived a modest lifestyle, which had allowed him to amass a considerable sum of money in the bank. While not wealthy, should he be unable to carry out another mission tomorrow he could continue to live in his current lifestyle for the remainder of his natural life. In the shinobi world, dangerous as it was, it was wise to plan ahead. For someone at a genin level trying to raise a child finances would be much tighter. A shinobi’s pay was based on mission difficulty and ‘D’ ranked missions offered minimal pay as they were often not much more than errands and menial tasks designed to give new genin a chance to practice and hone their skills before they were assigned to higher level missions. Trying to survive on a genin’s mission pay for a lifetime had to be difficult.

Finally, he relented. Guy had been a good friend to Kakashi. He could do this for the boy if nothing else. “Very well.”

“Thank you, Sakumo,” Hiruzen said, relieved.

“You said you needed someone with my reputation. If this isn’t combat… then diplomacy?”

The Hokage nodded. “Indeed.”

Sakumo cringed inwardly. He was no diplomat. He was a plain-spoken man and did not enjoy the double-talk and hidden meanings that politicians so often used. Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face.

“Don’t give me that look. You haven’t even heard the mission details yet.”

_I’m beginning to think I don’t want to!_ Sakumo wisely didn’t say out loud. The Hokage knew him well enough to know he was thinking it anyway.

“I need you to deliver a proposal to the Hidden Valley Village in the Land of Rivers. They’re situated between the Land of Fire and Land of Wind. Having them as an ally would allow us to shift a portion of our forces away from our western borders to engage the Hidden Stone and reinforce other weak points in case the Hidden Cloud decides to invade.” Seeing Sakumo’s puzzlement at that statement, he explained. “Minato Namikaze had a run-in with the new Raikage and the Eight-Tail’s jinchuriki. The Raikage was less than pleased with the outcome of their encounter. The Hidden Cloud has been more focused on harassing the Hidden Stone than us but that could change. I want to be prepared.”

“We’re already fighting a war on two fronts,” Sakumo stated bluntly. “Not to mention the Hidden Mist sending incursions to harass the coastal villages. We’re spread thin as it is. If we go into pitched battle against the Hidden Cloud as well --”

“I am well aware of the state of our forces,” Hiruzen said sharply. “Hence the need for allies on our borders.”

Sakumo’s lips compressed into a thin line as he bit back a retort. He was afforded a certain amount of leeway with the Hokage but he knew better than to push matters too far. _If the Hidden Cloud decides to invade, Hiruzen will have no choice but to send the younger shinobi to the front. Kakashi’s this close to becoming a jonin. There’s no way he won’t be sent to the front lines. And his chunin and genin classmates. They’re still children and not ready for the horrors of war!_

“How do we know the Land of Rivers hasn’t already allied with the Hidden Sand?”

“It is a possibility,” Hiruzen admitted, “though an unlikely one. The Land of Rivers has attempted to remain more or less neutral in this war thus far. Shinobi from both the Land of Fire and the Land of Wind have crossed through their territory unchallenged.”

_They’re trying to keep from being crushed between us. If they choose a side, the other will have no qualms about destroying their villages, burning their crops, and killing their people on their way through. They could just be biding their time, waiting to see who will come out victorious before throwing in with them. The Village Hidden in the Valley doesn’t have a lot of high-level shinobi. They’re well aware that they’d be destroyed if they attempted to take on one of the larger nations._

Sakumo pulled himself from his musings. “What are we offering in return?” he asked.

“What we offer any of our allies - military aid should the Land of Wind invade. What medical help and supplies we can spare. Your reputation is known throughout the shinobi world. You are known as a powerful and honorable man. That will lend weight to your words and give you power in negotiations.”

“Will the Hidden Leaf honor our word? Or am I simply a means to an end?”

Hiruzen’s eyes narrowed slightly. Sakumo was one of the few shinobi he would tolerate such an insubordinate question from. “We shall honor our commitment to our allies to the best of our abilities,” he replied.

“You’ll forgive me if I want to make certain there are no _misunderstandings_ about this treaty,” Sakumo stated flatly.

“What are you implying, Sakumo?”

Sakumo met the angry gaze, unfazed. He was not some rank genin to be intimidated by the Hokage’s ire. He’d been a shinobi in the service of the Hidden Leaf for over twenty-five years. He had served in two wars and he was _tired_. Tired of fighting. Tired of worrying for his son’s safety. Tired of watching friends and comrades die for the whims of those in power to whom shinobi’s lives were cheap and whose worth was only measured by how many of the enemy they could take down with them. “I’m not a fool. I’m well aware that treaties and alliances aren’t worth the paper they’re written on the moment they cease to benefit one side or the other. I may not like them but I’m not unversed in politics. My name carries weight but for how long should we decide that it is no longer advantageous to support those with whom we’ve negotiated an agreement? Shinobi are tools for their villages and daimyos. That doesn’t mean we are ignorant of being nothing more than pawns in the hands of those in power.”

“Are you quite finished?”

“Yes,” Sakumo said simply, with no apology or contrition in his tone.

Hiruzen knew should reprimand the shinobi before him harshly. The White Fang or not, he was bordering on insubordination with his words and tone. Yet Sakumo wasn’t wrong. While many may think such things, very few would dare voice them out loud. Fewer still would do so to the Hokage’s face. Sakumo never had been much for subtlety or holding his tongue when he felt he was witnessing an injustice. It was part of what made him such an excellent shinobi. While making him a political headache at the same time. Hiruzen met stormy grey eyes steadily. He could handle an irate Sakumo Hatake. He’d certainly had enough practice over the years.

“Sakumo,” he began, “None of us wanted this war. Nobody is happy about it dragging on for so long.” He ignored the slight upward quirk of one silver brow. He was as aware as Sakumo that there were those who profited handsomely from war. That, however, was immaterial to the topic at hand. “Our forces are spread too thin to strike a decisive blow on any one front. We _must_ reposition our forces and that means either an ally or more shinobi. We can attempt to ally with the Land of Rivers. Or we’ll have no choice but to start sending out the younger chunin and genin.” He paused for a moment to let that sink in. “I have no intention of going back on our word to the Land of Rivers,” he continued mildly. Sakumo’s posture didn’t exactly relax, but he did become less stiff. It was as good as it was going to get. “I need you for this mission because I trust you, Sakumo. The Land of Rivers isn’t going to want to get involved. The Hidden Leaf needs this alliance desperately and I believe you can make it happen.”

“And if they do not accept the terms of the treaty?” Sakumo asked, resigned. He knew he was going, no matter what he thought of the entire thing.

“You have the authority to negotiate on behalf of the Hidden Leaf. Within reason,” Hiruzen added with a faint smile. Sakumo didn’t return it.

“What is Dai’s role in all this?”

“Beyond your assessment, observation only. You will be the sole arbitrator on behalf of the Hidden Leaf in this matter. Report back to me tomorrow morning. I’ll have the treaty and any additional mission details for you at that time. You’ll leave immediately after.”

“Understood.”


	15. Chapter 15

The following morning Sakumo found himself once again in the Hokage’s office. A small backpack sat on the floor beside him. Sakumo had learned long ago to travel light. The more he carried, the more he risked fatigue or being slowed down at a crucial moment. He tried to keep from glancing at the clock again. Dai was late. Sakumo was beginning to wonder if agreeing to allow the genin to accompany him for this mission had been a mistake.

The door burst open and a man dressed in a green jumpsuit with orange legwarmers and a yellow scarf knotted around his neck entered. He had dark hair, bushy eyebrows with a thick mustache and goatee, and a stubbly beard. He rather clumsily stumbled through the door, hauling a large and heavy-looking pack. The feeling that this was a mistake intensified as Sakumo glanced at the Hokage, who was intentionally ignoring his gaze.

“Sorry I’m late!” the newcomer said cheerfully, seemingly completely unconcerned with his tardiness. “It’s been a while since I’ve had to pack for a long mission.”

“Well, you’re here now, Dai,” the Hokage said, forcing a small smile to cover his own irritation. He pointedly avoided looking at Sakumo, feeling the weight of his gaze and knowing the look the other was sure to be giving him. He had felt badly about asking Sakumo to take Dai along on this mission but it was the only mission that would allow Dai to accompany him. During a war it was impossible to assign a shinobi of Sakumo’s skill to a low-level mission simply to help one man, especially a genin who was in their thirties. Her knew Sakumo was already unhappy with the assignment and adding having to look after a genin was certainly not making it any more appealing. He had also told him the truth. There was no other shinobi who would work with Dai anymore, the chunin in charge of his assignments was tired of his bumbling of them and unless he managed to show them he had _some_ talent, he’d be dropped as a shinobi for good. This was also one of the very few missions that would be suitable for the genin to accompany him on. No matter his discontent at his assignment, Sakumo was a fair man, he’s assessment would be unbiased by the contempt and dislike of the other shinobi who had worked with Dai. He continued, “This is Sakumo Hatake. You’ll be accompanying him for this mission.”

Dai nodded enthusiastically, looking curiously at the man standing before the Hokage’s desk. He bore a striking resemblance to Guy’s friend Kakashi; the silver hair was quite distinctive. Dai vaguely recalled Guy saying something about his friend’s father being some sort of genius high-level shinobi but he hadn’t paid it much mind. He wanted Guy to embrace determination, passion, and youth. Hard work was what would allow his son to become a splendid shinobi, it was pointless to waste time being envious of those with innate skills.

The Hokage explained the mission for Dai’s benefit as he had already briefed Sakumo on the details the previous day. “Your mission is to deliver this treaty proposal to the Village Hidden in the Valley in the Land of Rivers.” He handed the sealed scroll to Sakumo, who tucked it safely into an inner pocket of his flak jacket. “Sakumo, you have the authority to negotiate on behalf of the Hidden Leaf, should it become necessary. Use your best judgment. Our intelligence indicates that the Land of Rivers has attempted to remain neutral thus far but that doesn’t mean the Hidden Sand isn’t attempting to negotiate with them as well. There have been incursions recently into the Land of Fire that we suspect have come through the Land of Rivers so be on your guard, both of you.”

“Understood.” Sakumo snagged his pack by a strap on his way out of the office, settling it onto his back comfortably. He made certain the hilt of his chakra blade was unobstructed. It wouldn’t do to not be able to draw his preferred weapon because he had been careless. He tugged his pony tail out from beneath the pack. The thought of cutting his hair flashed through his mind to be just as quickly dismissed. He’d worn it long since he had been younger than Kakashi and was accustomed to it, never giving it more than a passing thought. Sayomi had loved his long hair and would make the afterlife hell for him if he cut it. Kakashi was looking more and more like him every day, he thought with a touch of sadness. He’d probably be glad that there was something to distinguish them from one another soon enough. He wished his son had inherited more than his eyes from Sayomi. She had been so beautiful, it was a shame Kakashi didn’t resemble her more. He shook off his musings as they exited Hokage Tower. He needed to focus on what was ahead, not get lost in the unchangeable past.

“Assuming we don’t run into any trouble along the way, it would normally take between a day and a half to two days to reach the Hidden Valley,” Sakumo stated as they headed towards the gates. “There is a relatively easy road that runs almost to the border. In the interest of secrecy I think we should abandon the road after the first day and cut cross-country. It’s some rough terrain but we can still make it within three days if we push it.” He turned to his companion. “Do you think you can handle it?”

Dai grinned. “Of course! It will be invigorating to face the trials of the untamed wilderness!”

Sakumo frowned slightly. Bravado was all well and good but this was no D-ranked mission. He expected his teammates to be upfront with their skills and limitations. He was about to press the issue, then decided to let it go without comment. Dai may be a genin but he was not a young, untested child. He had to be around Sakumo’s age and should know his own limits by now. Though he had to still be a genin for a reason. Maybe he didn’t know his limits. Sakumo closed his eyes briefly against a building headache. This was going to be more difficult than he had first thought. Well, there was no help for it now, he had already agreed to take Dai with him. If he didn’t, the other would be dropped as a shinobi for good. Sakumo had promised to give him a chance. He had never backed down from a challenge before, never not completed a mission yet and he wasn’t about to start now. He would simply have to keep an eye on the other and hope they didn’t run into serious trouble.

“Very well,” he said. They had an entire day of travel on the road before them. He could see how Dai kept up and adjust their route accordingly. Sakumo preferred the cross-country route but having to stick to the road was a viable alternative if necessary. He would prefer to keep their destination hidden from prying eyes for as long as possible but the other nations would find out eventually should an alliance form. They reached the gates. Sakumo gave a brief wave to the guards – who did a double-take a seeing Dai accompanying him - then focused his attention on the mission ahead.

As they travelled, Sakumo noted that Dai matched his pace without complaint. He wanted to travel fast on the easy and fairly safe roads near the village to make up for the time they’d lose later when they had to cut across the countryside. He had also wanted to get a feel for Dai’s stamina. Sakumo called a halt shortly after midday for them to eat and have a brief rest. Dai was a bit out of breath as he dropped to the ground but he hadn’t objected to their speed once.

“There’s an area suitable to set up camp that we should reach shortly before nightfall,” Sakumo said as they shouldered their packs in preparation to continue. “I’ve used it many times.” They set out again, at a slightly slower pace this time. Sakumo didn’t want to exhaust Dai. He didn’t anticipate trouble this far in the Land of Fire’s borders but it was better to err on the side of caution. They still had several days of travel ahead of them. If Dai was worn out after their first day, he’d end up slowing them later, possibly at a time when speed would be vital. It was better to pace themselves.

* * *

It was mid-afternoon of their second day and Sakumo was satisfied with their progress. They had abandoned the road after breaking camp early that morning. He’d been surprised that Dai had been up and already stowing his gear before Sakumo had awoken, cheerfully stating that he was eager to get an early start. Sakumo had set an easy pace as they set out. Had he been alone he could have covered more ground, his years as a shinobi having conditioned him to run fast and far. Dai so far hadn’t complained but Sakumo could tell the faster pace of the previous day had been hard on the other to maintain. The terrain was only going to get more difficult until they got close to their destination.

The heavy tree canopy kept the forest floor comfortably cool as they traveled. Surrounded by the tranquil forest, it was almost possible to forget that their village was at war. Almost. Sakumo felt the bulk of the scroll he carried beneath his vest as he moved. He knew the Hokage was correct; the Hidden Leaf needed allies in order to help strike some decisive victories against the enemy nations. If not, the war would continue to drag on. The Hidden Leaf had been holding their own but they hadn’t made much headway. He knew he’d be headed back to the front after this mission. If he failed, his son could very well be headed into the thick of the war as well. That was something Sakumo was determined to prevent at all costs. He increased his pace just a bit, glancing back to make certain Dai was keeping up. The sooner they reached the Village Hidden in the Valley, the sooner they could hopefully begin to bring an end to this senseless war.

High level shinobi developed an almost sixth sense alerting them to danger. Sakumo halted abruptly, holding up a hand to forestall questions and caution silence. He kept his chakra tightly under control while stretching out his physical senses, trying to pinpoint the source of his unease. A moment later he consciously registered what had alerted him. The forest had gone too still; the wild animals had fled from human incursion into their territory. The scent of unwashed bodies carried on the faint breeze. He picked up the sound of muttered conversation and movement. They were close, whoever they were. Sakumo indicated that he was going to scout ahead and Dai was to remain here. The other man nodded as Sakumo paused to sniff the air again and moved cautiously ahead.

He hadn’t even left Dai’s range of vision before he spotted them. Five of them, lounging around a makeshift campsite. Had they not stopped when they did, they would have stumbled right into the middle of them. Sakumo’s dark eyes narrowed as he observed the small band. _Rogue shinobi,_ he realized, catching sight of the scored headbands. He noted their careless and sloppy manner. _Low-level, probably genin._ He noted one who was somewhat more alert, his weapons closer at hand, his posture indicating he was in charge. _Their leader may be a chunin at best._ Had he been alone, Sakumo would not have thought twice about immediately engaging and eliminating the group. He glanced at Dai who was watching him expectantly. He was about to order him to remain concealed here while he dispatched the band. Then he saw the resignation flash across Dai’s face. That was exactly what the other man expected him to do. This was not how he had wanted to measure the other’s combat ability but Sakumo had promised the Hokage he’d give Dai a fair chance. A small group of low-level shinobi was not too much for Sakumo to handle and keep an eye on Dai as well.

A few silent steps brought Sakumo to crouch beside Dai. “There are five of them,” he said, his voice pitched low so not to carry. “Rogue shinobi - probably deserters.” He quickly outlined the layout of the camp and the enemy positions. Dai’s eyes widened as he realized he was being included in the battle plans. He slipped off his heavy pack to allow himself better freedom of movement and nodded at Sakumo’s questioning look.

Sakumo reached over his shoulder and grasped the hilt of his chakra saber. He drew it as they sprang forward towards the rogue shinobi camp. Sakumo dispatched his first two opponents before they had fully realized what was happening. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a third on the ground and Dai engaging another. Sakumo turned his attention to the final rogue, the one whom he had identified as the leader, who had dropped into a defensive stance, a pair of kunai in his hands.

“Dammed Leaf shinobi,” he snarled. “We wanted nothing to do with this war!”

“So, you turned your backs on your villages and took up a life of highwaymen? Do not pretend you have the moral high ground here, abandoning your countrymen and preying on the weak.” Chakra crackled along his blade as Sakumo raised it. The other man’s expression turned to shock as he noticed the chakra saber.

“You’re the Wh –“

Sakumo didn’t give him a chance to finish. He lunged, blade leading, slicing through the other’s defense with ease. He spun to Dai just as the other’s foot connected solidly with the last enemy’s skull, dropping him like a stone. A quick survey of the area proved the small band was completely dispatched. Assuring himself the other was unharmed, Sakumo sent Dai to collect his gear while he made certain none of the highwaymen would be bothering another traveler again. It was dirty work but necessary. These men had deserted their villages, turned their back on their people, preyed on the weak, and had no honor. They did not deserve consideration.

Dai returned as Sakumo finished cleaning his tanto. He returned the blade to its sheath, his expression grim. “Let’s go,” he said.

Dai silently followed Sakumo as they continued on their way. He sensed this was not the time for cheerful exclamations about the triumph of the power of youth. Sakumo’s mouth was set in a hard line and his eyes were narrowed slightly. The jonin was clearly not happy. Dai was uncertain as to why. They had dispatched the rogue ninja quickly and effectively. The encounter hadn’t delayed them more than a few minutes.

Inwardly, Dai was ecstatic. He had assumed Sakumo would order him to remain hidden while he dispatched the enemy shinobi himself. Dai was well aware of what the other ninja of the village thought of him. He had no skill with genjutsu or ninjutsu and his taijutsu was average. Sakumo had included him in his plans as if completely unaware of Dai’s shortcomings. Dai decided not to dwell on the matter. He would tell Guy of how he had fought side by side with a jonin when he returned to the village. He couldn’t help but smile. It was better than even the Hokage praising him for being a master at finding lost cats.

* * *

“Can I ask you something?” Dai asked as they set up camp. The aftermath of their encounter with the rogue shinobi had been nagging at him.

“What is it?”

“You seemed displeased after we defeated those rogue shinobi. They were not tough opponents and didn’t delay us more than a few minutes.”

“Those men deserted their villages and abandoned their comrades. They turned to a life of crime, preying on those weaker than themselves. Even worse at a time like this when the Five Great Nations are at war and need all the shinobi they have to defend themselves and their people. The other Hidden Villages think the Hidden Leaf is weak because we’re taught to value teamwork. Valuing our comrades is not a weakness but our greatest strength. To turn your back on your village and comrades is the biggest betrayal of all. It is unforgivable.” Sakumo fell silent. He meant what he said but he was all too aware that despite the teachings of the Hidden Leaf, there were plenty of shinobi who were more than willing to sacrifice or abandon their teammates. He had heard too many stories, read too many reports of shinobi who had abandoned their teammates to die in order to complete a mission. It disturbed him that it was so easily accepted. The Village taught that comrades and teamwork were important, yet didn’t bat an eye when they were left so long as the mission was a success. It rubbed him the wrong way. He ran a hand through his spiky hair as he refocused on the here and now. He pulled a map from his pack and studied it for several moments, estimating their position. He had traveled through the Land of Rivers several times before though he had never been near its hidden village. “The Village Hidden in the Valley isn’t far. We should reach it tomorrow morning.”

Dai perked up. “It’s not dark yet. We should embrace our youth and push on!”

Sakumo shook his head. “I do not fancy approaching a potentially hostile village in the dark,” he said.

Dai’s bushy eyebrows drew together, confusion written across his expressive features. “Hostile? I thought this was supposed to be a diplomatic mission.”

“It is. But it’s not unlikely that the Hidden Sand is also trying to form an alliance with the Land of Rivers. Even if they haven’t,” Sakumo continued, “they have tried to remain neutral thus far. It worked well enough for them during the Second War. They may not be receptive to our proposal.” He leaned back against a sturdy tree trunk, stretching his legs out in front of him comfortably and folded his arms behind his head. “Either way, I’d rather arrive fresh and well rested.”

Dai looked disappointed, but he settled back.

Sakumo broached another subject, something he had noted but hadn’t yet addressed. “Did you know that you have a habit of fiddling with your kunai holster?”

Dai’s hand dropped away from the holster strapped to his thigh guiltily. “Oh!” He looked flustered. “I don’t often wear it. I – I’m not used to it.”

That fit what Sakumo had suspected. Dai really was out of his depth here. Sakumo felt a stab of pity for him and his expression softened. “When we reach the village, they’re likely going to be suspicious of us, at least initially. Misunderstandings easily blow out of proportion and control. If they were to think one of us was reaching for a weapon – well, things could get messy fast.”

Dai looked horrified as the implications of Sakumo’s words sunk in fully. “I can take it off if you think it’s best.”

“I’ll leave that decision up to you,” Sakumo replied, closing his eyes as he relaxed against his tree.

Dai opened his mouth to reply then closed it, not knowing what to say, stunned for the second time that day. He had expected criticism and an order to cease fiddling with the holster or remove it. Sakumo had simply pointed out the unconscious habit, the potential consequences, and left the final decision to him. He had explicitly not told Dai what to do. It had been a long time since another shinobi had treated Dai as a comrade. It was a nice change of pace.


	16. Chapter 16

It was the late morning of the third day before the Village Hidden in the Valley came into view. Sakumo’s eyes never stopped moving as they approached the gates. Other than their one encounter with the small band of rogue shinobi, they had travelled unmolested. Sakumo wasn’t about to let his guard down. Not until he got a feel for the political situation here first. A pair of guards blocked their path as they approached; cautious, wary, but not hostile.

“What is your business here, shinobi?” one demanded.

Sakumo kept his hands slightly raised and away from his body to indicate he was not a threat. Dai mirrored him though he had removed his kunai holster and stashed it in his pack. He had taken note of Sakumo’s words the previous evening and decided it was pointless to wear the holster as he wasn’t very proficient with the weapons anyway. “We’re from the Village Hidden in the Leaves. We have a message to deliver to your leaders from our Hokage.”

The guards looked them over for a moment, taking in their headbands, clothing, and weapons. They leaned close to one another, speaking in hushed tones. Sakumo waited patiently, using the time to discreetly study the fortifications and defenses. He spotted two more shinobi positioned nearby. _Sloppy,_ he thought. _They should observe while remaining hidden. They’re giving their positions away too readily. Were we hostile, it would cost them._ He reminded himself that The Hidden Valley did not boast the number of high-level shinobi that the hidden villages of the Five Great Nations did. Many of the smaller countries were lucky to have a handful of jonin at best; most of their shinobi would be genin or low- to mid-level chunin. It was unfair to judge them by the standards of the Hidden Leaf.

Apparently reaching a consensus, the guards turned back to the newcomers. “Are you – are you the White Fang of the Hidden Leaf?” the guard who had first challenged them asked, studying Sakumo carefully. His gaze lingered on the spiky silver hair that fell over his headband, then shifted to the hilt of the blade just visible on his back and the short red tipped white sleeve that fluttered around his left arm.

“I am,” Sakumo answered. There was no point denying it. The Hokage had chosen him for this mission specifically because of his reputation, after all. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dai staring at him in shock. It had never occurred to Sakumo that Dai _wouldn’t_ know who he was. He wasn’t so arrogant to assume that everyone in the village knew but Kakashi and Guy were friends so he would have figured it would have come up in passing at some point. Now was not the time to discuss it, however.

The guards exchanged another quick look. “Then this must be a matter of great importance. I shall escort you to our lord at once.”

“My thanks,” Sakumo said, allowing his hands to fall to his sides. Having an escort meant not having to navigate through an unfamiliar village. It also meant they would be kept on the path that the Hidden Valley shinobi wanted them on. Sakumo wasn’t overly concerned. They were wary of the strangers but there had been no outright hostility towards them. He hoped it remained that way.

They followed the guard through the village. Sakumo kept a map of their route in his head, noting potential escape routes and guard positions as they walked. He was experienced enough to know that just because the village didn’t seem hostile didn’t mean it wasn’t. Or that it couldn’t quickly become so under the right – or perhaps wrong - circumstances. There were no guarantees here. An unobservant or inattentive shinobi was often a dead shinobi.

A few minutes later they reached a large squat building that stood near what Sakumo estimated to be the village center. They entered and proceeded down several corridors, finally stopping before a pair of ornately carved doors. One of the doors stood partially open, giving them a glimpse into the room beyond.

The second guard from the gates pushed the door wide and ushered them inside. It was clear he had taken a more direct route to arrive before them and inform the village leaders of their presence. Sakumo would have done the same. They stepped through the doorway into a moderately sized office. In the center of the room stood a heavy wooden desk covered in papers and scrolls. Overflowing shelves lined the walls to either side and large windows were set behind the desk. All Sakumo could currently make out of the man bent over the mound of paperwork was slicked back brown hair. He gave no indication he was aware of the new arrivals.

It was a power-play, Sakumo knew. The other had obviously been informed of their arrival. He was showing that he was unconcerned about whatever their reason was for being here. The Land of Rivers was small and insignificant compared to the Land of Fire. Their ruler was simply demonstrating that they did not jump when one of the larger nations came calling. Sakumo hated politics.

He finally looked up as Sakumo halted before the desk, Dai a half-step behind him. The Hokage had made it clear that Sakumo was the Hidden Leaf’s representative for this mission. Bleary hazel eyes focused on the newcomers.

“I’m Tadashi Ejiri, the lord of the Village Hidden in the Valley,” he said in clipped tones. He eyed the Leaf shinobi before him for a moment as if sizing them up. “So, you’re the White Fang, huh. You’re not nearly as impressive as I’d imagined someone of your reputation to be. I thought you’d be taller.”

Only years of hearing comments about how he didn’t look how others expected allowed Sakumo to control the urge to roll his eyes. He didn’t get it. What did people _expect_ him to look like? Was he supposed to be some horrible monster with huge fangs that breathed fire as he tore his opponents to shreds? A giant that strode across countries in a single stride, crushing nations beneath his feet as he passed? Reputation aside, he was just as much a mortal man as everyone else. He bit down the urge to point out that he easily stood at least half a head taller than Ejiri. A shade under six feet – not counting his unruly silver mop - he could hardly be considered short. “I’m Sakumo Hatake,” he replied instead. “This is Might Dai.” Ejiri’s gaze flickered momentarily to Dai, then back to Sakumo, who was clearly in charge.

“Hmph,” Ejiri snorted, unimpressed. “What do you want, Sakumo Hatake?”

Sakumo reached into his flak jacket and withdrew the Hokage’s scroll slowly, telegraphing his movements as he did so. It wouldn’t due to start an incident because someone thought he was here to assassinate their leader. He handed the sealed scroll over to Ejiri. “This is a proposal from the Village Hidden in the Leaves,” he said.

“Hmph. Let me guess, you expect us to get drawn into your war.” He scowled. “You shinobi from the Elemental Countries and your damn rich Hidden Villages. You don’t give a damn about us until you need something.” He waved a dismissive hand as he set the scroll carelessly to the side, unopened. “Fine. I’ll look over what your Hokage has to say when I get around to it. There’s an inn nearby where you can find lodging since I’m assuming your Hokage expects you to bring back an answer.” He turned back to his paperwork, ignoring the Leaf shinobi once again.

Taking it as the dismissal it clearly was, Sakumo turned and walked out of the office, Dai following close behind. The guard from the gates who had escorted them pointed out the inn just down the street. With an apologetic look – possibly due to his lord’s rudeness - he wished them well before returning to his post.

“We might as well secure lodging,” Sakumo said. “I get the feeling we’re going to be here for a few days.” He pushed open the front door of the inn and stepped into the common room. It had a cozy, homey feel to it. It was empty aside from the two Leaf shinobi. Sakumo walked towards the counter. As he approached a man suddenly appeared, having just stood up from behind the counter. Bright green eyes blinked at the newcomers from beneath a shock of salt-and-pepper hair for a moment as if wondering where they had come from. Then he broke out in a wide grin.

“Oh! Visitors!” he cried in delight. “Welcome! Welcome to our humble village! I am Yutaka, proprietor of this inn. I’m afraid our accommodations are humble but my inn is clean and my wife is the best cook in the village!”

Sakumo gave him an easy smile. “I’m certain the accommodations will be just fine.”

“How long will you be staying with us, Lord --?”

“It’s just Sakumo.” While _technically_ he was the head of his clan, claiming any sort of title to that effect seemed rather absurd as the Hatake Clan consisted of exactly two people. “A few days, possibly a week.”

“Excellent! We have few visitors. Mostly merchants or shinobi or minor nobles who are simply passing through. I shall set you up in our finest room.” The innkeeper’s expression turned worried. “I am afraid that I must ask for payment upfront. Too often have I tried to collect from villages whose shinobi have stayed only to have them refuse. Unless Lord Ejiri is covering – ?“

“How much?” Sakumo asked. He paid without haggling and the other man handed over the room keys, grinning once again as he directed them where to go.

“Should you like to join us for the evening meal, please let me know in advance each day so my Emiko can be certain to make enough. Though she always cooks as if expecting an army to come marching through the door at dinnertime!” He laughed heartily. “Anything you need, please do not hesitate let me know! Will you be joining us this evening?”

Sakumo answered in the affirmative and thanked him. He and Dai made their way to their room. Sakumo unlocked the door and pushed it open, his gaze sweeping the room reflexively before he entered. The room was on the smaller side, but it would do. He’d certainly stayed in much worse places. Two futons sat folded in one corner. A small table with a pair of chairs was against the wall across from an open closet. Bedding and towels sat on the shelves. A second door led to a tiny bathroom. Sakumo went to the window and looked out. A neat courtyard stood empty. The window was too small for anyone other than a small child to fit through. He checked that it could be locked securely anyway.

“Do you really think we’ll be here for a week?” Dai asked as Sakumo inspected the room.

Sakumo slipped his pack from his shoulders and set it in the closet so it was out of the way. “It’s a possibility. Ejiri doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to read the Hokage’s proposal. Even if he read it the moment we left, I suspect he’ll let us stew for a few days before he gives us an answer.” He did not voice his annoyance with the entire thing out loud. Sakumo understood what was going on but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He wondered idly what would happen if instead of posturing and power-plays, if the leaders of the Nations spoke plainly and honestly. He suspected it would solve a lot of problems. It was a pretty dream.

He turned to find Dai staring at him intently.

“You’re the White Fang?”

“Yeah,” the word came out almost a sigh.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It never occurred to me,” Sakumo replied honestly. “It’s a moniker that instills fear and awe into the Leaf’s enemies, much like the Yellow Flash, or the Sannin. I’ve amassed plenty of enemies over the years, too many of whom would like nothing more than to see me dead. It protects Kakashi as well for them not to so easily connect him to me. But in the Hidden Leaf and among friends, I’m just Sakumo Hatake.”

Dai found Sakumo utterly perplexing. The man was one of the most powerful shinobi in the Hidden Leaf – even Dai had heard of the White Fang – yet he didn’t _act_ like it. Dai would have expected someone of his reputation to strut loudly about, demanding the attention and admiration that was his due, basking in his fame, sneering down at those who failed to match his skill. Instead, Sakumo was soft-spoken with a friendly, easy-going manner. Since they had left their village he had treated Dai as an equal in both word and deed.

“Let’s take a look around,” Sakumo suggested, interrupting Dai’s musings. He wanted to get a feel for the layout of the village and the mood of its inhabitants. It wasn’t quite noon and Sakumo hated being idle.

Dai agreed readily, still somewhat awed that the jonin was including him. He had rarely left the confines of the Leaf Village and was eager to see a new place. They left their packs at the inn, though Sakumo still carried his weapons. His tanto would be nearly impossible for anyone other than himself or Kakashi to use but it was still valuable simply because chakra blades were so rare. It was also his signature weapon and there were those who would value it highly for that alone.

As they strolled through the streets, Sakumo noticed the suspicious looks they received though he didn’t react outwardly to them. More than one shinobi openly and obviously sized the pair up. He was neither surprised nor offended by the suspicion of the villagers. They were foreign shinobi in their village during a time of war. A war this land had been trying hard to keep out of. He’d be concerned if they _weren’t_ wary of them. He stuck his hands in his pockets as they walked, slouching slightly. It was a comfortable, casual posture that made it appear he had nothing more on his mind than going for a pleasant stroll.

“Everyone is staring at us,” Dai said, his tone betraying his disquiet. Back home in the Hidden Leaf he never minded the stares that his boisterous nature earned him. Here he found the attention unsettling.

“This village isn’t like the Hidden Leaf,” Sakumo explained. “We’re a large village in one of the Five Great Shinobi Nations. Visitors aren’t all that uncommon, even shinobi from other lands. Heavy population draws merchants looking to sell their wares. It means lodging and supplies for travelers on their way through the Land of Fire. A shinobi village means security within the village walls for civilians. Even during times of war, the Village itself is rarely attacked directly. There are heavy defenses and fortifications that would make doing so a costly proposition.” He motioned towards what appeared to be a dumpling shop. Dai nodded and they headed towards it.

“You can hardly blame them for being hostile,” Sakumo continued once they had been seated and placed their orders. “The smaller nations have always been caught in between the Elemental Nations and their conflicts. Those who are unfortunate enough to be caught directly in between often become battlegrounds, their land destroyed and people killed in a conflict that isn’t even theirs. Then they’re left on their own after the conflict is ended to pick up the pieces without aid from those who destroyed them in the first place. Just ask anyone from the Hidden Rain, they’re a prime example. Their country was devastated and left in ruins after the last war. They had barely begun rebuilding when this war began It is no wonder we’re viewed with suspicion and mistrust, even hostility. In many ways, we probably deserve it.”

“Oh.” Dai wasn’t certain how to respond to that. He wasn’t ignorant of the war that waged throughout the shinobi world. But unlike the rest of those in his age-group, who were all chunin at least, he was blissfully unaffected by it. He seldom ventured much beyond the confines of the Hidden Leaf. He had certainly never been in battle. The conflict was an abstract concept for him, having never had practical experience in the area. Having recently made chunin, there was the possibility of Guy being sent into it but Dai was cheerfully optimistic that Lord Hokage wouldn’t send children to war. Dai had always admired the Hokage and had complete faith in him. Sakumo’s words shook him. They were spoken in a matter of fact tone but with a weariness of one who has seen such events first hand. Had the Hidden Leaf had a hand in sewing such chaos and destruction in its wake? He didn’t know how to feel about that. It clashed uncomfortably with his limited world-view.

Seeing Dai’s discomfort with the subject, Sakumo managed a wan smile. “For what it’s worth, I have Lord Hiruzen’s word that won’t happen here. We can’t know what the future will bring but he gave me his word that should this alliance come about the Hidden Leaf will honor its commitments.”

“I have faith in Lord Hokage. But what you said –“ Dai frowned, conflicted.

Sakumo took a moment to gather his thoughts before replying. “I believe Lord Third will do his utmost to help this land if it gets drawn into the war,” he replied carefully. The Hokage has assured him that the Hidden Leaf would send aid but Sakumo was well enough versed in politics to know how much would depend greatly on how badly the Hidden Leaf was affected itself. It could well be no more than a token, just enough to honor the letter of the alliance, if not the spirit. He saw no reason to burden Dai with that knowledge. Sakumo really hated politics.

* * *

That evening, Sakumo and Dai joined the innkeeper and his wife for dinner in the common room of the inn. Yutaka was a vivacious man, eager to share tales of those who had stayed at his inn in the past with its newest visitors and asking many questions about the Hidden Leaf and the Land of Fire. His wife, Emiko, was equally enthusiastic, not hesitating to add her own embellishments to her husband’s stories. Dai, naturally boisterous, chatted enthusiastically with their hosts. Sakumo mostly listened, content to allow the conversation to flow around him, only interjecting a polite comment or answering a direct question here and there. Highly observant, he was learning much more from what wasn’t being said. 

“Yutaka isn’t just a simple innkeeper,” Sakumo said later that night after they had returned to their room.

“Huh?”

“He’s a shinobi – high-level one, too, probably a jonin.”

Dai gaped. “What? How can you possibly know that? He never said a word about being a shinobi.”

“The way he moves, the way he watches his surroundings, the way he speaks; there are a hundred tiny tells. A lifetime of training is a difficult thing to shake completely.”

“What should we do?”

“Nothing.” Seeing Dai’s confusion, he elaborated. “There’s nothing for us _to_ do. It’s not unheard of for shinobi to run a business on the side or once they retire. Even if that’s not the case, letting them know that we know isn’t going to change anything. It’s not unlikely that he already realizes we’re aware.”

“How so?”

“He was watching us as much as I was watching him. The answer to even the most benign question can give away more than most people realize. I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” Sakumo added, seeing Dai’s confusion turn to concern that he may have inadvertently said something he shouldn’t. “It’s a game. He knows that I know he’s a shinobi. Now he wants to see what I do with that knowledge. In this case, nothing. It doesn’t affect our mission.”

“Then what is the point?”

“As I said, it’s a game, a test. They want to see what, if anything, we do.”

“What if they are expecting you to do something?”

Sakumo gave him a crooked grin. “Then they’re going to be sorely disappointed.”


	17. Chapter 17

Sakumo sat on the porch of the inn, watching the people of the Hidden Valley go about their business. One leg was bent in a half cross-legged position, his foot tucked behind the heel of his other leg which was drawn upwards with one arm draped over his knee comfortably. The evening was pleasantly warm with a light breeze carrying the scents of the village to his sensitive nose – cooking, flowers, incense, and some less appealing that were best left unexplored. He smiled as a group of children ran by, screeching in delight as they chased one another as a part of their game.

“They remind me of when Guy was a young child,” Dai said, coming out onto the porch and sitting beside Sakumo.

Sakumo’s smile turned a bit sad. “Kakashi was never much for playing. He wanted to spend all of his time training or reading. I had to force him out of the house and threaten to take his books away to get him to act like a child and play.”

“Kakashi has been a good friend to Guy,” Dai said. “Even before they became friends, Guy told me that Kakashi was the only one in their class who didn’t mock him for his lack of ninjutsu skills.”

“Guy is a fine young man. His challenges to Kakashi have been interesting to say the least. He works very hard. You should be proud of him.”

“I am. He may not be skilled in ninjutsu or genjutsu, but he is still a splendid shinobi. I expect him to continue to improve. He will become a great jonin someday. He will be respected in our village for his abilities.” He fell quiet for a few minutes, his expression turning serious and his gaze dropping to the ground. “Thank you,” he said softly.

“For what?”

“I know what the other shinobi in the Hidden Leaf think of me. I know it is hard on Guy, especially. He never complains but I know it’s been difficult for him.” He glanced at Sakumo out of the corner of his eye. “I have no doubt you didn’t ask for me to accompany you. Which makes me wonder why...?”

“Lord Hokage asked,” Sakumo admitted. He wouldn’t lie but he saw no reason to be cruel, either. “He said you were struggling with your assignments and teammates.”

Dai frowned. “You are putting it too kindly,” he muttered, dropping his gaze once again. “I would not expect you to understand…” How could he? The White Fang was renowned throughout the shinobi world for his power and skill and sheer genius. Shinobi of the other Hidden Villages admired him, even as they feared him.

“I may understand more than you think,” Sakumo said gently. “For all of his talent, it took Kakashi a very long time to find his place to fit in. He graduated the Academy in a single year at only five years old and took the chunin exams at six, a true testament to his skill. I should never have allowed it. Yet there was no way for me to stop it.” He vividly recalled his pride mixed with remorse at the lost childhood his son would never have, even if he had never seemed to want it. Prodigy was truly a double-edged sword. He continued. “I could not involve myself in Kakashi’s shinobi career. To do so would have only made it harder on him. I had to watch for the next four years as he was shuffled from team to team, hear about how difficult he was to work with. No jonin instructor wanted him, no other genin or chunin wanted to work with what they viewed as a little child; he was transferred within months - sometimes weeks - of being put on a new team. It was not until the Hokage assigned him to Minato Namikaze’s team that he was able to finally find a place to fit in. It was not easy and he struggled. But Namikaze worked with him, had the patience his other instructors did not to show him the importance of teamwork. If he hadn’t… I don’t know where Kakashi would be now. Still adrift and unhappy, I imagine. I owe Namikaze a great debt.”

They sat in silence for a time. Dai mulled over Sakumo’s words. He was surprised to hear of Kakashi’s difficulties. Guy had spoken with a hint of jealousy of how the other students at the Academy had admired the other boy for his natural talent and genius. He would have thought he would have easily fit in. He never suspected his youth would be such an obstacle; that other shinobi would refuse to work with him simply because he was young or that jonin wouldn’t want the son of the White Fang on their team.

“It’s been three days,” Dai said, finally breaking the silence and changing the subject. “Shouldn’t we have gotten a reply by now?”

“It’s all part of the political game,” Sakumo commented. “The smaller nations don’t like it when the larger ones try to interfere or bully them. Ejiri is simply showing us he can’t be bossed around. We’ll give it another day or so before reminding him we’re still here.”

“You’re okay with this?”

Sakumo’s shoulders lifted in a small shrug. “I understand where he’s coming from. It’s a minor inconvenience for us, nothing more. Would you prefer I go barging in, demanding an answer immediately?”

Dai frowned. “No, of course not. But didn’t Lord Hokage choose you because of your reputation...?”

Sakumo gave a humorless smile. “I certainly _could_ go and demand they give us an answer now. Which will most likely result in them saying no just for spite. As I said, politics. Even if they are agreeable to an alliance, they’re not going to take kindly to us rushing them. They may even expect us to raise a fuss at being kept waiting. As you said, someone of my reputation,” he finished dryly. “No, we’ll play their game for a while longer. This alliance is important to the Hidden Leaf. We can wait for a few more days.”

* * *

Sakumo walked down the main street that ran through the center of the village. Dai had been practically bouncing off the walls of the inn that morning and Sakumo had seen no harm in allowing the other to go around the village for a bit while he started on his mission report. Beginning the tedious paperwork now meant there’d be less to do once they returned to the Leaf and he currently didn’t have much to do while waiting for Ejiri to give them a response. They had been in the Hidden Valley for five days and while the villagers were curious and somewhat wary, they hadn’t been hostile. They had agreed to meet for lunch at the dumpling shop they had found their first afternoon in the village. Finished with his report – not that it had been very long – Sakumo was heading there now.

There was a blur of motion, just caught out of the corner of his eye. Sakumo was too disciplined to turn his head. He gave no indication he’d noticed anything, his posture remaining slouched with his hands in his pockets as he continued on his way. His senses, however, were instantly alert. It was likely nothing more than a Hidden Valley shinobi on an errand but Sakumo knew better than to make assumptions. As he continued ambling down the road, he sensed more people following him, a half dozen total, felt chakra signatures surrounding him as caught more glances of shadows moving to pace him.

The dumpling shop came into view. There was no sign of Dai. Sakumo frowned inwardly. The other could simply be running late. His instincts told him that wasn’t the case. Scanning the street for sign of his missing comrade, his attention was caught by a man loitering near an alley, picking at his nails with a kunai. Seeing Sakumo’s gaze on him, he grinned, flipped the kunai into the air and caught it again as he turned and disappeared between the buildings. Sakumo’s gut was screaming warnings at him.

It was a taunt, a challenge. One that Sakumo dared not ignore, especially since there was still no sign of Dai. Six to one odds were not good though he’d faced worse. More worrisome was a violent encounter with the shinobi of this village. No matter how it turned out it would spell disaster for his mission here. And if Dai had been hurt because of his complacency…

Sakumo walked boldly toward the alley. About halfway down he saw a familiar green-clad figure sprawled unmoving on the ground. An obvious trap. Senses on high alert, Sakumo started towards where Dai lay, the noises of the village becoming muted as he moved further into the dim alley. As he approached, Sakumo noted with relief that Dai was still breathing and appeared unharmed. He stopped moving.

“You might as well show yourselves,” he said. “And tell me what you want.”

Six forms materialized around him. Weapons glinted dully. Despite the armed shinobi surrounding him, Sakumo didn’t reach for his weapons. Not yet. He wanted to avoid bloodshed if at all possible. Better to defuse whatever situation was at hand if he could.

The man who had been at the entrance to the alley spoke. “You’re the White Fang of the Leaf, huh? You don’t look so tough. Your friend certainly wasn’t. Didn’t even notice when I was right behind him. Took him down with a single blow. Pathetic.”

“If you wanted to spar, you could have just asked,” Sakumo replied, keeping his tone light.

An ugly grin split the other man’s face. “You arrogant shinobi from the Five Great Nations. You think you’re so much better than the rest of us. Imagine the prestige we’ll earn by being the village that eliminated the White Fang. I’m sure the Hidden Sand will be most pleased. They may even pay for your corpse. Not to mention that sword of yours should fetch a pretty penny.”

“Say you kill me, then what? Do you think the other Nations will simply leave you alone? Do you think the Hidden Leaf won’t retaliate when they discover what you’ve done? If you do not want to get drawn into this war, this is not the way to avoid it!”

“I figured you’d be arrogant. I didn’t figure you’d be a coward!” The other man sneered. “The great and feared White Fang, afraid of a fight!”

Sakumo refused to be baited. He cared nothing for insults against himself. His concern was for his companion and his mission. He heard the other shinobi shifting, nothing more than a whisper of fabric, the slight increase in breathing, a slight scrape of a foot dragging along the ground. The tension in the air was nearly palpable. He kept his gaze focused on the man he assumed was the leader. “There is no reason to do this,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “It cannot end well for either of us.”

“Speak for yourself!” he shouted as he lunged. “Die!”

Sakumo, anticipating the movement, sprung to the side, towards Dai, drawing his tanto in his left hand and a kunai held in a reverse grip in his right. He didn’t want to hurt anyone but he was not about to simply let himself be cut down. There was not enough room in the alley to use ninjutsu safely. He’d risk damaging the nearby buildings and possibly harming those within. The narrow confines would also hamper his kenjutsu. If he left the alley he would be leaving Dai to their mercy and he’d risk harming civilians on the street. His opponents had chosen their ambush site well, he admitted grudgingly.

Instantly, two more opponents set upon him. Sakumo parried the kunai aimed at his throat and heart. He kicked one man, sending him skidding backwards and backhanded the other with the hand holding the kunai. He knocked a barrage of shuriken to the side with his tanto and dropped into a defensive stance as three more shinobi closed in.

It didn’t take long for Sakumo to realize the other shinobi were all jonin based on their level of skill. He swore silently. He was glad Dai was unconscious. He somehow doubted the other would flee and a genin was no match for a group of jonin. He’d end up being a liability in this fight.

A short time later, Sakumo knew he was going to be in trouble if this continued. He was fighting defensively, using his blades to parry rather than attack, not wanting to injure any of the Hidden Valley shinobi fatally. His attackers had no such qualms about harming him. In keeping himself between the attackers and Dai he was severely limiting his own movements. He had an assortment of minor injuries. The worst of which was his right eye swelling shut. He’d taken a hard kick to the face while blocking three shinobi from getting to Dai. A black eye was nothing serious, of course, but the swelling was beginning to hamper his vision on that side. He could ill afford any more limitations if he hoped to get Dai and himself out of this unscathed and without killing any of the Hidden Valley shinobi in the process.

Sakumo sensed the shinobi beside him a split-second before he struck. As he brought a kunai down to stab him through the heart, Sakumo was already spinning away, shifting his weight to kick. Sakumo barely felt the kunai slice through his right bicep as he spun. His foot connected solidly with the other man’s chest and he kicked him into a nearby wall with a silent snarl. Lightning chakra began crackling around the blade of his tanto. He no longer had any choice but to go on the offensive. He simply hoped he’d be able to find a way to salvage the mission. 

As if responding to an unheard command, the shinobi suddenly scattered, leaving Sakumo standing alone in the alleyway. 

“Dammit!” Sakumo swore. Then he let out a much longer and much more colorful string of expletives. They were supposed to be negotiating a treaty, not starting an incident. Slipping his kunai back into the holster on his thigh, knelt beside Dai who was starting to come around.

“Ow! What happened?” Dai asked, rubbing his head as Sakumo helped him up. He kept his tanto clutched in his gloved hand in case the shinobi reappeared.

“You were jumped by a group of Hidden Valley shinobi. Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Dai assured him, pressing a hand against his forehead and managing a weak grin. It quickly faded as he noticed the blood soaking Sakumo’s sleeve. “You’re not.”

“It’s nothing,” Sakumo said tersely. “Come on, let’s get back to the inn before they decide they want a rematch.”

Dai eyed Sakumo’s arm worriedly. The bandages he wore around his arm were stained red, the dark blue fabric of his sleeve noticeably wet, even in the shadows. It was certainly not nothing. “We need to stop the bleeding,” he insisted.

Sakumo started to protest, then decided to take the path of least resistance in the interest of getting them out of here as quickly as possible. He reached into his weapons pouch and tossed Dai some bandages. He sliced his sleeve with his tanto. Dark eyes scanned the alleyway as Dai tied a bandage around the wound.

“Let’s go,” Sakumo said tersely. He kept alert as they made their way back to the inn. They received a few alarmed looks as they rushed by but nobody made any move to intercept them. There was no sign of the shinobi form the alley. He secured the door once they made it back to their room. “What happened?” he asked.

“I – I’m not sure,” Dai said. “I was on my way to the dumpling shop, then I woke up in that alley. What did they want?”

Sakumo shook his head. “I don’t know. Are you dizzy or nauseas at all?” He had noted that Dai’s gaze tracked him as he moved and he hadn’t seemed to mind the sudden brightness once they had left the alleyway.

“No. Just a bit of a headache,” he said with a rueful smile.

_Good. No concussion, then. That’s something._ Sakumo took off his weapons and set them aside. He shrugged out of his flak jacket as he toed off his sandals. “I’m going to get cleaned up. Unless --?” Dai shook his head and motioned for him to go ahead. Sakumo pulled clean clothes form his pack. He disappeared into the tiny bathroom, turning the taps to start the shower, allowing the water to heat while he stripped off his dirty, torn, and bloody clothes, scowling at the pain as he moved his injured arm.

Sakumo stood beneath the hot spray, allowing it to carry the dirt, sweat, and blood away. He pulled his hair free from its usual pony tail, feeling the weight of it against his back. He closed his eyes and stuck his head beneath the water. He replayed the ambush in his mind. It had been an obvious trap. But for what purpose? The shinobi had spoken of prestige of killing him, the White Fang, but it had rung false. If they had wanted him dead, they would not have retreated once they had drawn blood. If his death had been their goal, they would have pressed their attack.

He had been fighting defensively. They had been skilled enough that they had to have noticed that. If they had pressed harder, he would have been forced to go on the offensive in order to protect himself and Dai. He blew out a frustrated breath as he pushed the bangs that had plastered over his eyes back from his face and opened his eyes to stare at the tiled wall in front of him. A test? He mused. That was the only logical explanation. They question was who had ordered it and why. He doubted the jonin of this village had decided to jump them just for kicks. No, an attack on foreign shinobi here on a diplomatic mission had to have been ordered and authorized. And at a high level.

He removed the bandage from his arm and winced as the water hit the exposed wound. It was deep but not dangerously so and it was a clean slice. He allowed the water to run over it, ensuring it was clean before shutting the taps off and reaching for a towel. He caught his reflection in the mirror and sighed. His right eye was swollen and turning an interesting shade of purple. He turned away from the mirror and began toweling off. After pulling on clean pants, he began scrubbing the towel over his dripping hair. He was still rubbing the towel over his hair as he exited the bathroom.

“Maybe you should get that looked at,” Dai said, noticing Sakumo’s arm was bleeding again.

“It’s nothing,” Sakumo replied, digging in his pack for a roll of bandages. He wiped away the blood and dressed the laceration with the efficiency born of years of experience. No jonin was a stranger to being injured. Sakumo knew when an injury was serious and this was nothing he couldn’t handle. Satisfied with his handiwork, he tucked the remaining bandages away. He was reaching for his clean shirt when a loud knock sounded on the door.

He dropped the shirt and reached for his tanto instead. He nodded to Dai and curled his fingers around the hilt as the other opened the door. Ejiri and Yutaka stood in the hallway. “Is there something we can do for you?” Sakumo asked pleasantly. He did not draw his sword but he didn’t release his grip on it.

“I was informed there was an… _incident_ earlier today,” Ejiri stated.

“A simple misunderstanding, nothing more.”

“Weapons were drawn. You were injured.” His gaze went meaningfully to the fresh bandages around Sakumo’s bicep and the bruises on his face before dropping to where his hand was curled around his tanto.

“A minor scrape, hardly worth mentioning,” Sakumo replied.

“Those involved from my village shall be disciplined at once. Attacking guests will not be tolerated. They are in custody, awaiting sentencing. How would you have us punish them?”

“I wouldn’t,” Sakumo’s tone hardened. “As I said, it was a misunderstanding. I have no desire to cause resentment between the people of our respective villages. As far as I am concerned, there is nothing more that need be done.”

Ejiri exchanged a glance with Yutaka, then nodded once sharply. “As you will. I would speak with you in the morning regarding your Hokage’s proposal.”

“Of course.”

With a final glance, Ejiri left.

“Are you in need of medical treatment?” Yutaka asked. “I can bring someone here if you’d rather not – “

“That won’t be necessary,” Sakumo said.

“As you wish. Are you certain you do not need anything else?” Yutaka asked.

“Thank you, no. Actually – I believe we’ll take dinner here tonight.”

“Of course. Emiko will bring it when it’s ready.” He bowed and left. Dai closed the door after him. He turned to Sakumo, who was frowning.

“What is it?”

“Awfully convenient that Ejiri already has the shinobi who jumped us in custody, isn’t it?” Sakumo mused. He released his hold on his blade and pulled his shirt over his head. “It’s been less than an hour and neither of us said anything about it. There was no one else in that alley, either. Not that I saw or sensed anyway.”

“Maybe someone heard the commotion?”

Before Sakumo could answer another knock came on the door. Yutaka stood there, several ice packs in his hands. He handed them to Dai, then left once again without a word. Dai tossed one to Sakumo, then sprawled on his futon, resting the ice pack on his aching head. Sakumo pressed the ice to his swelling eye, grimacing at the feel of the cold against the tender flesh.

“It’s possible,” Sakumo said, picking up the conversation again. “Though unlikely.”

“What are you saying? That Ejiri set it up?”

“I don’t know anything for certain. Though that is the most likely scenario.”

“What do we do?”

“We see what he has to say tomorrow.”

“That’s it?” Dai cracked open his eyes to stare incredulously at Sakumo. “What if they decide to attack during the night?”

“I doubt it,” Sakumo replied. “That was a test, I’m almost certain of it. The exact reason I don’t know.” Grey eyes narrowed dangerously. “Yet.”


	18. Chapter 18

Sakumo was not in a good mood the following morning. They had been in the Village Hidden in the Valley for five days. He was sick of waiting around, especially in light of the previous day’s events. His arm was sore and his face still tender and bruised. He noted that the swelling around his eye had gone down as he retied his pony-tail. It was something, he thought darkly.

Gathering Dai, he headed for Ejiri’s office. Sakumo had debated bringing the other man along to sit and watch the political posturing that was about to ensue. The attack the previous day convinced him to keep the genin in sight at all times. While there had been no serious injuries, Sakumo wasn’t taking chances. He was suspicious of Ejir’s claims that the perpetrators had been caught so quickly. He had his theories but until he knew for certain that the Land of Rivers wasn’t about to become an enemy he wanted Dai where he could protect him.

There was no sign of Yutaka as they walked through the inn’s common room. The innkeeper was usually puttering about in the mornings, sweeping the floors, wiping down the counter and tables, or just generally setting things right. Sakumo frowned slightly as the possibilities ran through his mind. It was probably benign, perhaps he had an errand to run or something elsewhere in the inn that required his attention. Sakumo made a mental note of his absence anyway.

Dai hurried to keep up as Sakumo covered the distance to Ejiri’s office with long strides. His disposition had changed from the easy-going and relaxed posture Dai had become accustomed to over the past few days. There were no more hands in his pockets as he ambled along, his shoulders slouched, seemingly carefree. Now he stood upright and alert, his sharp gaze taking in everything around him. He radiated the quiet confidence of one who knew their own power and didn’t need to boast of it. _This_ was the White Fang known and feared by the other villages.

They reached the office without incident. The door to Ejiri’s office stood ajar. Without breaking his stride, Sakumo pushed the ornate doors fully open and walked through. Ejiri was sitting behind the large desk. Unlike the last time they had been in this room he was not bent over a pile of paperwork but sitting upright, clearly awaiting their arrival. Yutaka stood beside him. He was no longer dressed in the civilian clothing of an innkeeper but the uniform of a shinobi of the Hidden Valley. The leader of the shinobi who had challenged him the previous afternoon stood on the far side of the office. He held his hands up and slightly away from his body to indicate he was not a threat as he saw the corners of Sakumo’s eyes tighten and his fingers twitch ever so slightly – a reflexive reaction to a perceived threat. Sakumo kept his chakra carefully under control but his posture still radiated danger.

“I suppose you want some sort of explanation,” Ejiri stated as Sakumo halted before his desk, his expression once again carefully neutral, giving nothing of his thoughts away. “Yutaka is my head of security for the village.”

Yutaka smiled disarmingly as Sakumo glanced at him. “I’m certain you already figured out I was not just a simple innkeeper,” he said. Sakumo nodded. He had suspected as much from their first evening. Yutaka’s expression turned serious again. “I’m afraid I must apologize for your little run-in with our Asahi and his team yesterday. They were under strict instructions to test you, not hurt you.”

“A test,” Sakumo repeated. He had already reached that conclusion. “Why?”

“To test the might of the Hidden Leaf’s jonin. To see if the rumors of the prowess of the White Fang were true. I did not want unnecessary bloodshed. I knew that if cornered, you would be forced to attack aggressively. My men were ordered to disengage should it become clear that you would use deadly force against them. Holding your own while fighting purely defensively against six opponents while defending a fallen comrade is remarkable. You certainly live up to your reputation.” Yutaka looked a bit uncomfortable. “Though I have some doubts as to the rest of your jonin…”

“Oh?” The single word was spoken in a deceptively mild tone.

“I took down your companion with a single blow before he had any idea I was there,” Asahi said, his voice very nearly a sneer. “Becoming complacent even in your home village can be dangerous and doubly so in an unfamiliar one. Any jonin worthy of the name knows that.”

“I’m a genin,” Dai said quietly.

There was a full minute of startled silence, then Asahi burst out in laughter. “Are you kidding me?”

Dai flushed and stared at the floor, embarrassed that he had made the Hidden Leaf appear weak. Sakumo’s jaw clenched and his eyes flashed as he pinned Ejiri and his shinobi with his glare. He was clearly angry. He was tired of whatever hidden agenda the Hidden Valley had, tired of playing their waiting game, tired of politics. He wanted to go home. “That is quite enough,” he said, the menace in his voice made all the more frightening for its calm.

Asahi got his laughter under control. “Really?” he drawled, still clearly amused.

Sakumo heard the challenge in the single word. He simply pinned the other man under a flat stare. He was not in the mood for this.

“You get so upset over an insult to a genin? You disappoint me, White Fang of the Leaf.” The words were spoken with bravado, but Asahi couldn’t hold Sakumo’s unwavering glare.

“Life’s full of disappointments,” Sakumo said. “You can imagine mine when we were attacked for no reason.” The temperature in the room seemed to drop at the coldness in his tone. Sakumo was a patient man but he had his limits. Insulting his comrades was not something he tolerated. “If this is how the Land of Rivers treats those who have come to negotiate in good faith, perhaps the Hidden Leaf should reconsider an alliance.”

“You would disobey your Hokage’s orders to bring back this treaty?” Ejiri challenged.

“My duty is to the Village Hidden in the Leaves. If I determine that this treaty is not in our best interest then I will report as much to Lord Hokage along with my reasoning.” He stuck his hands into his pockets as his words hung in the air. Sakumo was well aware that the Hokage would be less than pleased should he return without having secured an alliance. He was unwilling to court a nation that was willing to attack guests without cause. This time it had been a test. It had been mostly due to his own restraint and unwillingness to jeopardize the potential alliance that no one had been killed. The next time they may not be so lucky; the dull ache in his arm was a grim reminder of that. The Hidden Leaf would be better off continuing as they were rather than having untrustworthy allies watching their borders.

Ejiri met the stormy grey gaze leveled at him without flinching. Sakumo’s expression was blank, allowing nothing of his thoughts to show in his expression. His posture was relaxed, almost insolent with his gloved hands in his trouser pockets and shoulders slightly slouched. Ejiri wasn’t fooled into thinking Sakumo’s guard was down, either physically or mentally. His eyes held anger and resolve. He was well aware he may be punished by his Hokage for failing his mission by not returning with a treaty and that was a consequence he was willing to accept.

Ejiri held Sakumo’s gaze for another handful of heartbeats. Then he spoke. “The Village Hidden in the Valley agrees to your Hokage’s proposal of an alliance on one condition.”

“What is that?” Sakumo asked warily.

“We wish you to remain here and help train our shinobi.”

“I am certain we can arrange for some shinobi to – “

“You misunderstand,” Ejiri interrupted. “We don’t want just anyone. We want _you_ , the White Fang of the Hidden Leaf.”

“That’s impossible.”

“That’s our condition.”

“Why? Why me, specifically?” Sakumo answered his own question. “Let me guess, you want someone with my reputation. You believe I’ll help your village produce superior shinobi.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“If you refuse, then we’re done here!”

Sakumo straightened, his hands dropping to his sides. “Even if I remained here it would not help you. If it was so simple a matter of having powerful shinobi teach others, don’t you think the Hidden Leaf would have an army of the most powerful shinobi to walk the earth at her disposal? We have the Sannin, after all - the Legendary Three - as well as the Yellow Flash. We have the descendants of Madara Uchiha and Hashirama Senju. We have Hiruzen Sarutobi, widely regarded as one of the most powerful ninja to ever live. Not to mention numerous Clans with their secret techniques and kekkei genkai.

“There is a reason I never became a jonin leader within my own village. I can teach tactics and formations, stealth and justu. So can any other decent shinobi. What I can _not_ teach is instinct. I cannot teach how and when to know to listen to your gut, even when your head says it’s wrong. I cannot teach how to make split second decisions without consciously realizing it in the heat of battle. Those are things that are innate or learned and honed through experience.

“The Five Great Shinobi Nations are at war,” Sakumo continued softly. “If I agreed to remain here to train your people, then another would be sent into that war in my place. I cannot accept that. I will not accept that. I will not remain in relative safety while my Village is at war, while my friends and comrades are dying in that war. Not when I can aid them. If you insist on it then I will request to return after the war is over. But I will not stay here until then.”

There was a long moment of silence while Ejiri seemed to size up the man standing in front of him, as if weighing his resolve. Sakumo met his gaze evenly. He had meant what he said. He would not spend weeks or months here while the Hidden Leaf was still embroiled in the Third Shinobi War. It was not hubris to know that his village needed him to fight.

Finally, Ejiri spoke again. “The stories of the White Fang are true, it would seem. You are hailed as one of the most powerful shinobi of our time, renown throughout the shinobi world, your reputation known even in a village as small as ours. Yet you remain an honorable man.” He gave a small smile. “I will accept what aid your village is willing to provide for training our shinobi in addition to the other terms set forth by your Hokage.” He held out a scroll to Sakumo, who accepted it.

Sakumo unrolled the scroll, his eyes skimming the contents. It was already signed and bore Ejiri’s mark. He looked at the other, quirking an eyebrow.

“I had to try,” Ejiri said without a trace of remorse. “The prestige we could have earned by having our shinobi trained by the White Fang… Well, you understand, of course.”

“Of course,” Sakumo said dryly. He didn’t, in actuality. He was a terrible teacher. It would be impossible for him to train another to his level unless they already possessed similar innate skills and intelligence. No matter how hard one tried, some things simply couldn’t be taught. He rerolled the scroll and tucked it safely into an inner pocket of his flak jacket. “We shall return to the Hidden Leaf at once.”

“Of course. We look forward to furthering our friendship with your village.”

Sakumo sketched a short bow, then turned on his heel and left the office, Dai close behind. They returned to the inn and gathered their belongings. Yutaka was back behind the counter when they emerged into the common room once again.

“I hope you will not hold yesterday’s events against us,” he said. “The Land of Rivers is in a precarious position, situated as we are between the Land of Wind and the Land of Fire. We managed to avoid being drawn into the Second War. I suppose it was too much to hope that we could remain neutral in the Third.” He sighed as he met Sakumo’s gaze. “The Hidden Rain is a grim reminder of what happens to a small nation that gets caught in the middle of the Elemental Countries wars,” he explained. “Their country was ravaged by the conflict between the Hidden Sand, Cloud, and Leaf. Once the War ended, they were abandoned and left on their own to rebuild without any help from those who had destroyed their land to begin with. I have read your Hokage’s proposal. While it promises aid, I harbor doubts as to if it would be more than a token effort on your village’s part.”

Sakumo couldn’t refute what Yutaka was saying. He had expressed as much to Dai several days prior and the Hokage when he had been assigned this mission in the first place. “What changed your mind?” he asked, certain that the other had been against an alliance at first.

“You.”

Sakumo blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that. “I beg your pardon?”

Yutaka smiled at Sakumo’s bemused expression. “You have quite the reputation, White Fang of the Hidden Leaf,” he said, purposely using Sakumo’s moniker. “While most stories are of your prowess and ferocity in battle there is another piece that sticks out, that sets you apart from other powerful shinobi.” He paused. “It is said that you are an honorable man. I sent Asahi to test you, to see if that was true. Your first instinct was not to attack but to diffuse. Not only did you stay your hand in battle, you did not seek reparations or punishment against your attackers afterwards. I’m sure you wanted to avoid conflict in order to carry out your mission,” he said with a dismissive wave of one hand. “But tell me honestly, Sakumo Hatake, would you have done any different if that weren’t the case? You do not strike me as a man who holds a grudge.”

Sakumo gave a small shrug. “Holding grudges takes too much effort.”

Yutaka gave a soft snort of laughter. “So it does. At any rate,” he continued, “I am certain you are eager to return home.” He reached behind the counter and placed a parcel on it. “Emiko has packed a lunch for you both to enjoy on the road. She will be most insulted should you refuse. She is well aware that shinobi subsist on an unhealthy diet of rations and food pills.”

“Give her our thanks.” Sakumo accepted the parcel graciously, carefully putting the lunches into his pack before shouldering it.

Yutaka grinned. “I shall. Should you visit again, my inn will always have room for you. Farewell!”

Sakumo and Dai said their farewells and exited the inn. Sakumo was impatient to return to the Hidden Leaf. He knew he’s be sent back out into the War almost as soon as he returned. With luck, Kakashi would be in the Village and he could spend some time with his son before then. He had missed much of Kakashi’s early years while fighting in the Second Shinobi War. Now he was forced to miss even more of his life while away in the Third. He hoped desperately that this new alliance would mean the Hidden Leaf could finally make some headway and perhaps find a way to bring this conflict to a close before his son was forced into it.

As they neared the edge of the village, he saw Asahi was loitering near the gates as they came into view. He pushed off the wall he had been leaning against as he spotted the Leaf shinobi.

“Can we help you?” Sakumo asked warily as he approached.

“I feel I should apologize. Truly, it was never anyone’s intention to cause injury. Or insult.” His eyes flicked to Dai momentarily. “Lord Ejiri and Master Yutaka are only trying to look out for the best interest of our people and village.” He sighed. “Our village is small. We only have a few jonin level shinobi. Should one of the Elemental Countries decide to attack us, we would fight and we would hold out for a little while. But we would ultimately fall. Five of my best men and myself were barely able to hold our own against you and you were not fighting in earnest. It was… a sobering experience.” After a moment, he raised his head and grinned. “I would enjoy the chance to spar the next time we meet,” he said.

Sakumo smiled. “I look forward to it.”

“Until then. Safe travels to you both.”

“We’ll take the road back,” Sakumo said as they started down the road away from the village. It would shave an entire day off their journey and there was no longer any need to conceal their destination from prying eyes. He inhaled deeply, glad to be heading back to the Hidden Leaf. “Let’s go home.”

* * *

Sakumo breathed a sigh of relief as they crested a rise and the Village Hidden in the Leaves came into view. He was always glad to walk back through the gates of his home. A few minutes later they had passed through the massive gates.

“I’ll go report to Lord Hokage,” Sakumo said as they passed the guard station. “He’ll be eager to see this.” He patted his flak jacket where the treaty was tucked safely away. He bid Dai farewell and turned towards Hokage Tower.

“How did your mission go?” the Hokage asked a few minutes later as Sakumo walked into his office.

“The Hidden Valley has agreed to ally with the Hidden Leaf,” Sakumo said as he handed the scroll over to the Hokage. “With some minor provisions. Mainly that we send some shinobi to help them train theirs.”

Hiruzen accepted it, unrolling it and scanning the contents. “Excellent work,” he said, smiling up at the other man. His smile slipped a bit. “And your impressions of Dai?”

“He handled himself well enough. As well as any other genin.” He briefly recounted their journey to the Land of Rivers and the events that had occurred while there.

“I see,” Hiruzen said slowly. He studied the jonin across his desk. Sakumo was an honest man. He had been asked to assess Dai and so would do so and give an accurate report. He sighed softly. “You certainly leave me in a tough spot.”

“Sorry?”

“As I previously told you, it was recommended that Dai be dropped from being a shinobi. It is clear that he will never advance as a shinobi. By all accounts he can barely handle the simplest of assignments.” Hiruzen rubbed a hand over his eyes. “And now you’re telling me that he did just fine.”

“You said that you asked me to evaluate Dai because I was the only jonin who would even consider working with him, that I wouldn’t allow preconceptions to cloud my judgment.” At the Hokage’s nod, Sakumo continued. “Maybe the problem isn’t so much Dai as it is the other shinobi. You said it yourself – others _expect_ him to fail. He hides it beneath a cheerful exterior but he is well aware of what the shinobi of our village think of him. He lacks any ninjutsu skills and his taijutsu is simply not sufficient to make up for it so it is true he will likely never advance as a ninja. Though perhaps with a supportive team, someone who treats him as a comrade rather than a joke, he would at least be a productive genin. Perhaps he could even advance to chunin.”

Hiruzen considered Sakumo’s words for several moments. What Sakumo said made sense. Unfortunately, it was easier said than done. Right now, in the middle of a war, they were already short-handed. There was no way to find a team suitable for the genin right now. He sighed again. Dai would have to wait.

“Thank you, Sakumo.”

Sakumo nodded once. “And Dai?”

“Will remain a shinobi. There is nothing more I can do for him right now. Perhaps once the war is over…”

Sakumo understood what he was saying. The Hokage couldn’t worry about one man when the entire village was embroiled in a war. Hiruzen had done what he could by sending him with Sakumo and keeping him as a ninja of the Hidden Leaf. Anything more would have to wait. At least the burden would not fall to Guy. It wasn’t much, but it was the best he could do.

Hiruzen cleared his throat. “In any event, you do not have time to worry about that. I have your next assignment.” He unrolled a map across his desk. Sakumo moved so he could see it clearly. The borders of the Land of Fire were clearly marked along with what appeared to be notations depicting troop movements and patrol locations.

“I’m going to patrol the border?”

“Yes. I’ll allow you to put your own team together. The Hidden Stone has been sending an increasing number of incursions into the Land of Fire. We need to dissuade them of continuing. Thus far it has been limited to small groups. We believe they are testing our strength, looking for weak spots along our border.”

“Or it’s a feint for a larger invasion, possibly from the Hidden Cloud, if they’ve allied.”

Hiruzen nodded gravely. “That is a possibility as well. That is why I have dispatched a number of jonin teams to patrol and investigate. You leave the day after tomorrow.”

“I understand. I already have a team in mind.”

“Good.” He paused. “There is one more thing…”

Sakumo didn’t like the Hokage’s sudden change in tone at all. “What is it?”

“Kakashi has been recommended for promotion to jonin.”

“He can’t be a jonin. He’s twelve,” Sakumo protested.

“As I recall, you weren’t much older yourself –“

“He’s a child!”

“The Hidden Leaf has already lost a great number of chunin and jonin in this conflict. I have no choice but to –“

“I will not allow you to do this simply to get another body onto the battle field!” Sakumo practically shouted. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he struggled to control their shaking – from rage and a sudden terror for his son.

“Sakumo –“

“I’m his father!” Sakumo hissed. Charka crackled in the air around him, a sure sign of his fury. His voice raised again. “I will not allow it!”

Sensing the sudden surge of chakra, a pair of masked ANBU appeared beside the Hokage. He waved them away as he felt every one of his years weighing down on him. An infuriated Sakumo Hatake was not something he enjoyed dealing with on the best of days. Several years into a long and bitter war, this was not the best of days. He knew Sakumo’s rage was fueled by concern for his only child. It was something Hiruzen could understand and sympathize with. However, Kakashi was a shinobi. A shinobi’s duty was to their Village, no matter anyone’s personal feelings on the matter.

“Sakumo,” Hiruzen forced his voice to remain low and calm but firm. Sakumo was looking for a fight and he would not engage him. Dark eyes glared at him from beneath silver bangs. A lesser man would have quailed beneath that glare. Hiruzen met it calmly. “Sakumo,” he repeated, “Kakashi is a shinobi. His duty – as is yours – is to the Village Hidden in the Leaves. He is skilled enough and now has enough experience to become a jonin. I am taking his youth into consideration.” He softened his tone slightly. “He will not be thrown out on his own or sent to the front. He will remain on Minato’s team for the time being.”

Their gazes remained locked for several heartbeats. Sakumo dropped his eyes first, his shoulders slumping slightly in defeat as he seemed to deflate. “Fine,” he spat. Hiruzen rolled up the map and held it out. Sakumo didn’t _quite_ snatch it from him. “Is that all, Lord Third?” Sakumo ground out from between clenched teeth.

“Yes.”

An ANBU materialized beside the Hokage as Sakumo stalked out of his office, slamming the door behind him hard enough to rattle the frame. “Is everything alright, Lord Hokage?” he asked.

Hiruzen sighed heavily as he sat back in his chair. He passed a weary hand over his eyes. “Yes. It’s fine. Sakumo is simply worried for Kakashi’s safety. As a father myself, I can certainly understand.” He looked ruefully at the door that the White Fang had departed through. Sakumo tended to get quiet and still when angry. Hiruzen had forgotten that the man could get rather loud when riled. His gaze fell on the scroll that Sakumo had returned with, the treaty with the Land of Rivers. He desperately hoped it would help bring an end to the raging conflict. He was rapidly running out of options. Sakumo was right to be concerned for soon he would have no choice and would be forced to send the younger shinobi to war.

* * *

Sakumo stood in the doorway of Kakashi’s bedroom, watching his son sleep. He should be in bed himself, having to leave early in the morning to lead his team to the border on what would be weeks, if not months, of patrols. He didn’t move. The next time he saw his son, Kakashi would be a jonin. The Hidden Leaf was running out of shinobi to send into battle. They had lost innumerable chunin and jonin already during the course of this war. There were rumors that soon the younger shinobi would be sent into combat. Not just Kakashi’s peers, many of whom were new chunin, but even the genin as well. For all the Hokage’s assurances that Kakashi was to remain with Minato, should they become desperate for people he had no doubt that Kakashi would not be sent into battle. He was a jonin, even if he was barely twelve years old, Sakumo thought bitterly.

Their alliance with the Land of Rivers would help but Sakumo knew it wasn’t going to be enough. The smaller nation simply didn’t have enough shinobi to do much more than watch their own borders. While that allowed the Hidden Leaf to move some of their forces elsewhere, they were still woefully short on manpower.

Sakumo remained in the doorway for several minutes before finally turning away and padding silently to his own room. He forced his doubts and regrets from his mind. Kakashi was a capable shinobi, he reminded himself. And Sakumo had seen for himself that Minato Namikaze genuinely cared for his students. Even if Kakashi was a jonin, Sakumo strongly suspected the blond would do everything in his power to try to keep him safe. Kakashi liked his sensei but would often complain that he was a giant mother hen. His son’s fussing had amused Sakumo at the time. Now he was grateful that the Hokage had assigned Kakashi to his team.

Laying in the dark, Sakumo desperately hoped this conflict would come to an end before his son was forced into it.


	19. Chapter 19

Kakashi ran through the training field, lightning chakra surrounding his hand as he struck his targets one after another. He stopped on the far side, breathing heavily from exertion as he allowed the chakra to dissipate.

“Wow, Kakashi! That was so cool!” Obito said, jumping down from where he’d been observing from a nearby tree branch. A lollipop stick protruded from his mouth as he sucked on the candy he’d been given by an old lady he’d helped earlier that day. “I’ve never seen anything like that before. What was it?”

“It’s a new jutsu I’ve been working on,” Kakashi replied. He accepted the canteen Obito held out to him gratefully. He took several gulps of water before corking it and handing it back. This new jutsu used a _lot_ of chakra. Much as he hated to admit it, he wasn’t going to get much use out of it until he either built up his chakra reserves or found a way to make it more efficient. Two uses a day, that was all he could currently handle. Maybe three if he pushed himself dangerously close to completely draining his chakra. It was better not to risk it unless he had no other choice as miscalculating could very well be fatal. Building up his reserves would be better for him in the long run. Kakashi specialized in ninjutsu, which meant the larger his chakra reserves, the better. Sometimes he was jealous of his father’s kenjutsu mastery. While Sakumo often incorporated chakra through his blade to enhance his attacks, it used much less chakra than ninjutsu. Despite his extensive practice with a blade in the years since he had first asked his father to teach him kenjutsu, Kakashi was nowhere near his father’s level. He was proficient – he made certain he was proficient in everything he did – but he had been forced to face the fact that his true strength did not lay in kenjutsu. His father had ruffled his hair and explained that his mother had been a ninjutsu user; it was one of the few things he had inherited from her.

Obito’s eyes went wide behind his goggles. “You _made up_ a new jutsu?”

“Well… yeah. It’s not quite perfected yet, though.”

Obito looked around at the splintered targets incredulously. The sheer destructive power of Kakashi’s jutsu was impressive. _He calls_ this _‘not perfected’?!_ he thought, stamping down a wave of jealousy. To create a brand new jutsu was incredibly difficult. To create on with such destructive potential was even more so. And to do it at twelve years old… “Whatcha need to make up a jutsu for, anyway?” he asked. With the wide array of jutsu available already, it seemed to be more trouble than it was worth. Not to mention Kakashi looked worn out from just his run through the training dummies. What good was a jutsu that sapped all of your strength?

“I’ve tried adding a change in nature to Minato-sensei’s Rasengan but I can’t make it work!” Kakashi explained, his tone showing his frustration. He was not accustomed to failure and was not enjoying it.

“You tried doing what?” Obito asked, confused. He had no idea what Kakashi was talking about.

“Adding a change in nature to the Rasengan.”

“Huh?”

Kakashi held out one hand and began focusing his chakra. A moment later, a swirling sphere appeared in his palm. “This is the Rasengan,” he explained. He walked over to a post and thrust his hand towards it. The jutsu plowed through the wood, leaving a perfectly round hole in its wake.

“Okay,” Obito said. “What’s wrong with that? It seems pretty powerful.”

“It is. But if I can infuse it with my lightning nature, it’ll be even better!”

Obito shook his head and watched as Kakashi created another Rasengan in his hand. His brows drew together in concentration as he attempted the change in nature again. As with every other time he had attempted it, the jutsu dispersed as soon as he began attempting to add a change in nature.

“See? That happens every time!”

“Maybe it can’t be done,” Obito said.

“Maybe…” Kakashi wasn’t convinced. He was certain the Rasengan could accept the infusion of a chakra nature. He just couldn’t figure out how to do it. He wished his father was home to ask. While he may have preferred kenjutsu over ninjutsu, Sakumo still commanded a wide array and understanding of the latter. His natural genius also allowed him to often pick up things others would overlook. Kakashi was certain he could help figure out what he was doing wrong. Sakumo had been gone for weeks at a time this past year, only home for a couple of days before leaving for another mission. He had left to patrol the border weeks ago and would remain out of the village indefinitely. Kakashi had some vague recollections of his father being gone like this during the last war when he had been very young. This time Kakashi had his own training to focus on and missions to carry out. That didn’t mean he didn’t occasionally wish his father was home more often, especially when the nights dragged on and the house seemed too large and lonely.

“What are you two up to?” came a familiar voice from behind them. “That looked like the Rasengan.”

The boys turned. Minato and Rin were approaching.

“It was,” Kakashi answered. “I was trying a change in nature.”

“Trying to add your lightning style to it?”

“Yeah. But I haven’t been about to get it to work. It destabilizes and dissipates every time I try, no matter what I do. I just can’t figure it out!” he finished, his frustration evident in his tone.

Minato nodded. “I had the same problem trying to infuse wind style with it. I believe a change in nature _can_ be done. But I haven’t figured out how to do it yet.”

“You haven’t?” Kakashi asked in surprise. Minato had created the Rasengan. If he couldn’t manage a change in nature… He sighed. Perhaps it was a lost cause, he thought in disappointment. It would have made a great jutsu. It was still formidable on its own, of course, but a shinobi’s most powerful jutsu were those which aligned with his own chakra nature.

Minato smiled gently, seeing Kakashi’s disappointment. “Not yet. But it took me three years just to develop the Rasengan itself. To be honest, I’m not certain I’ll ever be able to manage it.”

“Oh.” Kakashi was disappointed. If someone like Minato sensei couldn’t modify his own created jutsu, what chance did Kakashi have of figuring it out?

Minato looked around the training field, noting the splintered and half-destroyed targets. “You didn’t do all that with the Rasengan,” he observed.

“I’ve been working on a new jutsu,” Kakashi admitted. “In case I couldn’t infuse lightning with the Rasengan.”

“I see,” Minato said. Whatever Kakashi had come up with, the evidence showed that it had sheer destructive power if nothing else. He knew that he shouldn’t be surprised. Kakashi had enormous potential. Considering who his father was, it was almost a given. Minato knew little of Kakashi’s mother – Sakumo did not often speak of his late wife outside of those closest to him and most other shinobi were strangely respectful of not gossiping about her. From what little he had gleaned, she had been no slouch herself. It had been exciting watching Kakashi’s growth over the past couple of years. Minato suspected that once he fully matured, Kakashi would easily be the equal of any Leaf shinobi, quite possibly even surpassing his father.

He changed the subject to more immediate matters. “At any rate, I have some news,” he said. The three chunin gathered around attentively. “Kakashi, the Hokage has approved your promotion to jonin. It becomes official in a few days.”

Minato smiled as the silver-haired boy tried not to look _too_ pleased with himself as his teammates congratulated him. Though Minato hadn’t told Kakashi that he was recommending him for the promotion, he doubted he was too surprised. Kakashi was already the equal to many jonin in the village; he had been for years. He’d simply lacked the experience to match his skills until now. His smile slipped a bit. He’d heard that Sakumo had been quite vocal in his opposition to the promotion to the Hokage. Minato suspected his opposition came not from him feeling Kakashi didn’t deserve it but from fear that he’d be sent into the thick of the war because of it. It was not a baseless fear; the Hidden Leaf was at its lowest military strength in history. They had lost too many chunin and jonin in this war already. Still, he hoped Sakumo hadn’t expressed his displeasure to his son. Kakashi idolized his father and Minato knew it would upset him greatly if he knew his father opposed his promotion, even if it was out of concern for his safety. _Especially_ if it was out of concern for his safety.

“And we have a mission. I don’t know all of the specifics just yet. We assemble to head out in two days. I’ll fill you in on the details then. Until that time, I want you to continue training but don’t overdo it.” He gave Kakashi a stern look, knowing he was the most likely of the three to push himself too hard. He was looking rather ragged this morning, probably from whatever new jutsu he was working on. “Understood?”

“Yes, sir!” they chorused.

While Minato did not yet have the mission details, he knew it would be behind enemy lines. Very likely infiltration or sabotage given his team’s specialization. Minato watched his squad exchange friendly banter as they walked across the training field with a heavy heart. They may be shinobi but they were still children as well. Despite his objections, the Hokage had made himself clear:

The Hidden Leaf no longer had any choice but to send its youngest shinobi to war. 

* * *

Sakumo studied the map that was unrolled on a large boulder in front of him. Michiko, one of the best trackers Sakumo had ever worked with and a member of his current team stood beside him. A messenger bird had just arrived, bearing news about the changing battle fronts. Such birds were commonplace these days, delivering intelligence between the teams spread out along the Land of Fire’s borders. In coordinating the patrolling teams’ efforts, they had a better idea of the enemy’s movements. It wasn’t foolproof but they had managed to prevent any sizeable force from sneaking up on the Land of Fire thus far.

He took the scroll from the bird’s leg and unrolled it. He glanced at it, saw it was troop movements and handed it over to Michiko to fully decode and make the proper notations on the map. They were currently camped near the border between the Land of Fire and Hidden Grass, one of several teams that currently patrolled the Fire Nation’s borders. They had halted several incursions by the Hidden Stone into the Land of Fire over the past few weeks. For the time being they were keeping an eye on things but Sakumo expected new orders any day now. There had been skirmishes, true, but it had been too quiet. For nations at war, Sakumo would have expected them to clash more often and in much greater numbers. It was nagging at him. The Hidden Stone had to be planning something big.

“Damn, the Hidden Stone has managed to infiltrate a large force way too far into the Land of Grass. Their army’s almost to our borders,” he murmured as Michiko finished updating the map. His grey eyes traced the new battle lines. “This doesn’t bode well for the Land of Grass or us. They’ve got to have a good supply train set up in order to maintain their position for so long so far from their village. It takes a lot of supplies to keep an army moving. Let’s see…” He traced one finger along the map, figuring the most efficient route given their position and the terrain. “Kannabi Bridge. That’s going to be the weak point. Take out the bridge, take out their supply line, take out their ability to wage war so far from home.” They were supposed to be patrolling the border but each team captain had a certain amount of autonomy to take independent action should they find a way to hinder the enemy. Disrupting a major supply line certainly qualified. It might even be enough to force the Hidden Stone to surrender, bringing them that much closer to ending this senseless war.

“Kannabi Bridge?” Michiko said, breaking into his thoughts. “There’s a team already headed that way.” She checked the scroll to make certain. “It was in this last update. They’re sending the Yellow Flash’s team to take care of it.”

Sakumo’s head jerked up at that news. _That’s Kakashi’s team!_ His heart clenched as he looked at the new troop movements. They would be walking right into the thick of the enemy’s forces and probably didn’t realize it. There was a Leaf force in the area, engaging the Hidden Stone on the front lines. It consisted of about fifty shinobi, who were tasked to harass the enemy until reinforcements could arrive. According to their latest intelligence, the Hidden Stone had deployed over a thousand shinobi to that region. No matter how skilled they were, the Hidden Leaf forces were woefully outnumbered. It would be too dangerous to send messages to an infiltration unit so deep in enemy territory; there was a high probability it would be intercepted, placing the team in even greater danger.

“They’re about to walk right into the middle of the enemy,” Sakumo said. He blew out a frustrated breath. He turned and motioned to his team. “Isamu! Jiro! Break camp! We’re leaving!”

“New orders?” Jiro, the team’s medic, asked.

“Not exactly.”

“Where are we going?”

“We’re heading towards Kannabi Bridge. Namikaze’s team is headed there to destroy it and they’re about to walk right into an army of Hidden Stone shinobi. We’re the only team that’s close enough to possibly make it in time to warn them.”

Sakumo knew his four-man squad wouldn’t make a dent against the enemy’s sheer numbers even if they were all high level jonin. He hoped to intercept Minato’s team before they got that far. If they could reach them before they reached the Hidden Stone’s forces, there was a chance they could skirt them and remain undetected. He considered the route Minato was most likely to take from the village. He ran a finger along the map as they others gathered around, indicating the course they would take to try to intercept them.

“Unless they’ve gotten delayed or pushed extremely hard, we should be able to intercept them right around here,” Sakumo said, tapping the location on the map. “Michiko, you’ll take point. Everyone stay alert. The Land of Grass is an ally but the Hidden Stone’s infiltrated pretty deeply. We have to assume it’s hostile territory now.”

“Got it!”

It took only minutes for them to break camp and head out towards the border. An experienced team, they worked together seamlessly, each knowing their role. Michiko took the lead as they headed out. Isamu and Jiro followed a short distance behind while Sakumo brought up the rear, watching all of their backs as they entered potentially hostile territory.

This was war. People died. Sakumo had lost friends and family to war. But Kakashi was his _son_. Sakumo would never forgive himself if he didn’t do everything in his power to protect him. Sakumo’s team knew Kakashi was with Minato headed for Kannabi Bridge. They also knew their captain well enough to know they were not rushing off simply because his son was in danger. He would have gone to the aid of any Leaf shinobi. They had also understood the implications for the course of the war should the bridge be destroyed. It would be a critical blow to the Land of Earth, possibly even enough for them to be willing to cease hostilities.

_So much for the children not being sent to war,_ Sakumo thought, bitterness welling up within him. It had only been a few weeks ago that the Hokage had told him of Kakashi’s upcoming promotion to jonin and had promised that he would not be sent to the front. Kannabi Bridge may not be the front lines but it was in many ways even more dangerous. They would have no back-up and no support if something went wrong or they were discovered. Minato was a skilled jonin and Sakumo respected his abilities. But his team consisted of three children. No matter how skilled they were, no matter what rank they attained, or what they accomplished, they were still just kids.

_Damn this war! Damn those who care nothing for those of us who fight and die in it! Damn them for sending my son into it!_ Sakumo breathed the cool forest air deeply, tamping down his building rage through sheer force of will. Now was not the time. It would only serve to distract him at a time when it was crucial he remain focused and alert. _Minato Namikaze’s no fool,_ Sakumo reminded himself. _He’s a skilled jonin and he cares for his team. He’ll be cautious traveling though enemy territory with them. He’ll protect them._


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler/Warning: character death

Kakashi moved silently through the trees as he wondered how this mission that had started so well and had gone so horribly wrong.

Had it only been yesterday morning that he had officially become a jonin? It seemed a lifetime ago now. Minato-sensei and Rin had given him gifts to celebrate his promotion, much to his chagrin. Obito had flushed and muttered about not knowing what to get him even after scouring the village for days looking for the perfect gift. Kakashi had assured him that he didn’t need or want a gift. He had half-jokingly suggested that Obito being on time for once would be gift enough. They had laughed and then started their journey towards the Land of Grass in high spirits despite the danger they were walking into.

They had encountered a lone Hidden Stone scout. Kakashi, eager to test his newly-developed Chidori in combat, had insisted on being the one to lead the way. Minato had saved him and warned him against using his Chidori again. It had stung almost as much as the sword wound beneath his arm. He’d worked so hard to develop a new jutsu and now he couldn’t even use it. He knew Minato was right – the Chidori made him move too fast to ascertain an opponent’s counterattack. It was still an incomplete jutsu. That didn’t do much to lessen his disappointment. He trusted and respected Minato so he listened and promised he wouldn’t use Chidori again. Not until he had perfected it.

The next morning Minato had left them, heading towards where Hidden Stone troops were invading to help on the front lines while Kakashi led the sabotage mission to the Kannabi Bridge. Someone of the Yellow Flash’s caliber appearing on the front would serve as a distraction for the enemy. They had made good progress towards their goal when they’d been ambushed by two more Hidden Stone shinobi. Kakashi had been so focused on his fight with the first one that the second had managed to sneak behind them and subdue Rin before they’d noticed him. He and Obito had tracked them back to a nearby cave. Obito was currently watching the entrance they had found while Kakashi scouted to make certain there were no more unpleasant surprises or traps awaiting. Obito had been impatient and wanted to rush straight in to rescue Rin. Kakashi had convinced him to wait in order to make certain they knew what awaited them inside. He had gotten careless once. He couldn’t afford to be careless again. Not with Rin as a hostage.

Not seeing any sign of more shinobi or traps, he retraced his steps rapidly. His heart pounded in his throat as he moved silently through the bamboo forest. His first mission as a jonin and a squad captain and he’d already had a teammate kidnapped. Fortunately, the shinobi who had taken her had underestimated his tracking skills. They had been able to track them back to where they had stopped – probably to interrogate her. The cave seemed to be nothing more than a convenient stop, not a long-term base or camp and there was no indication of a larger force nearby.

As he approached the large tree where he had left Obito to keep watch, he sensed something was wrong. He scanned the area. Nothing seemed to be amiss. Was he just being paranoid because the Stone shinobi had gotten the drop on them? No, he thought. His father told him to always trust his instincts. If they were telling him something was wrong then _something_ was wrong. He needed to take stock and analyze the situation and figure out what was bothering him. He’d do that as soon as he rejoined Obito. Maybe he had seen something while Kakashi had been gone.

As Kakashi pushed off the ground to jump up onto the branch where Obito waited he saw it. A blur of indistinct motion behind his teammate. He was already throwing a kunai even as he called out a warning. The blade hit, sending the kunai that had been about to plunge into Obito flying off into the trees. Kakashi’s momentum sent him crashing into the attacker hard enough to send the other shinobi stumbling back and off the branch. Kakashi already had another kunai in his hand as he spun to face the Stone shinobi, who had regained his footing in a nearby tree.

“Not bad, brat,” he admitted grudgingly.

“Are you alright?” Kakashi asked Obito.

“Y – yeah.” Obito swallowed hard. He hadn’t even noticed the shinobi behind him. If Kakashi hadn’t been here, he would be dead.

“Damn, some sort of camouflage jutsu. Stay alert!” Kakashi warned as the Stone shinobi disappeared from view. He sniffed the air; the other had even masked his scent. He was good. “We’re going to have to locate him by sound alone.”

“Right.”

Kakashi crouched low to present a smaller target, straining his ears, trying to detect sounds of human movement over the sounds of the forest. He and Obito made certain they were always facing so they could watch the other’s back. There! An imprint of feet and a faint blur of motion --

“Obito! Behind you!” Kakashi lunged, aiming his kunai for where he expected the shinobi to be. His kunai glanced his side but didn’t strike anything vital. The Stone shinobi took advantage, slashing upwards with his weapon. The blade caught Kakashi in the face, slashing up from his cheek through his eye. He screamed and clamped a hand to his face.

“Kakashi!” Obito cried, alarmed by the blood pouring from between Kakashi’s fingers. “Are – are you alright?” He cursed himself for saying something so stupid. Of course Kakashi wasn’t alright. Tears welled in his eyes. His friend had been hurt protecting him.

“Yeah,” Kakashi said shakily. He concentrated on breathing as Obito helped him to sit up. He was in agony and didn’t dare think about the damage that had been done to his eye. He had to stay focused. They needed to take out the enemy shinobi and rescue Rin. Nothing else was important right now. He noticed the blood-stained kunai laying nearby. “He’s good. He got rid of the kunai stained with my blood so I can’t smell it. Stay alert.”

Obito nodded, pushing up his goggles and rubbing his sleeve over his eyes, grateful that Kakashi hadn’t mentioned the tears. He scanned the area carefully. Kakashi was kneeling behind him, obviously in pain. The young jonin was attempting to locate the enemy but it was clear he was struggling. Blood dripped from between his fingers, soaking his sleeve as it ran down his hand.

_Kakashi’s hurt bad. Dammit! He saved my life twice just now! I can’t keep relying on him! He needs me to protect him now and I have to do it, no matter what!_

Obito saw _something_ moving towards them. It was man-shaped, but blurry. He didn’t stop to question it. Determined to protect his friends, he thrust his kunai forward. It sank into a body, which became fully visible as the jutsu was disrupted.

“How…?” he gasped. “Those eyes! What…?” He slid to the ground, dead.

Obito turned back to Kakashi.

“Obito! Your eyes!”

He stared at his own hand for a moment. He realized what he was seeing was his chakra moving through it. “I can see chakra,” he muttered. “I guess my Sharingan awakened.” He knelt beside Kakashi as the other boy doubled over in agony. “Kakashi!”

“I’m okay,” Kakashi said through clenched teeth. Obito knew he was lying but now was not the time to argue. “I think my left eye is gone for good. It doesn’t matter.” He fumbled in his pouch with the hand not clamped to his face. He held up the med kit Rin had given him. “I can fix myself up well enough with this. We need to save Rin!”

Nodding in agreement, Obito helped Kakashi bind his wound, trying not to look at the gruesome injury.

“We encountered two earlier – I’m betting the one we took out yesterday was the third member of their squad - so there should only be one left,” Kakashi said as Obito wound gauze around his head to secure the bandages over his ruined eye in place. “I didn’t see any sign of him outside so it’s probably safe to assume he’s in that cave with Rin.” He tucked the med kit away as he stood. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah. Let’s do this!”

The next few minutes were a blur. With a rush of adrenaline, Obito and Kakashi entered the cave. They fought and injured the final enemy shinobi and released Rin from the genjutsu they had placed her under in order to attempt to get information from her.

“You two make a good team,” the Stone shinobi said as he recovered enough to get to his feet and face Kakashi, Obito, and Rin. He grinned cruelly. “But you’re still only brats. You’re standing in the palm of your enemy now.” He wove an earth jutsu and the cave began shuddering around them.

“This is bad!” Kakashi said, realizing that the shinobi intended to bury them alive. “Run for the exit!”

They ran toward the cave entrance as the walls began falling in and rocks began falling around them.

“Kakashi!” Obito cried, noticing his teammate suddenly missing. The spun around to find Kakashi sprawled on the ground, knocked unconscious by a falling rock that he had failed to notice due to his new blind spot. Seeing a boulder about to crush Kakashi, Obito ran to him, grabbing whatever part of him he could reach and hurling the limp body out of the way. Rin’s scream suddenly cut off as a crushing weight bore down upon him…

* * *

Kakashi stirred, trying to figure out why he was sprawled on the ground, surrounded by rubble and the air thick with dust. His head throbbed and he couldn’t seem to open his left eye.

“Hey,” came a weak voice. “Are you guys okay? Kakashi? Rin?”

Kakashi jerked upright as he remembered the fight with the Hidden Stone shinobi and the cave-in. His breath caught in his throat in a horrified gasp. Obito lay on the ground nearby, his entire right side crushed beneath a massive boulder. Stumbling to his feet, Kakashi threw himself at the huge stone, trying to move it off of his friend. It didn’t budge. He tried again, straining his muscles to the limit.

“It’s okay, Kakashi,” Obito said. “I can’t feel my right side anymore. It’s completely crushed.”

“No! Obito, just hold on! We’re going to get you out of here!”

“I don’t think… I’m going to make it…” Obito was beginning to struggle to get his words out.

“Stop talking like that!” Kakashi cried. “Save your strength.”

“Kakashi,” Obito said softly. “I finally thought of a gift for you. You know, for making jonin. I couldn’t think of anything before. But I think… I think this will be good.”

“Okay. You can give it to me back in the village,” Kakashi said, eying the boulder and looking around for anything he could use as a lever to help move it. Kakashi only knew a few earth-style ninjutsu and they were all too risky to try with Obito pinned as he was.

“I – I’m giving you my Sharingan…”

Kakashi froze at Obito’s words. He turned slowly. “No!”

“Please, Kakashi.” Obito gasped. “I want you to have it. I’m not going to make it. This way, I’ll be your eye and see the future with you.” He struggled for a moment, trying to get air into his crushed chest. “Rin, please use your medical ninjutsu and transplant my Sharingan – the entire left eye – into Kakashi.”

“Right,” she nodded, wiping away her tears. “Kakashi, come here. We have to hurry.”

Kakashi couldn’t move. He stared, unseeing, his entire body trembling. Rin got up and went to him, taking his hand and prodding him over to Obito. He was shaking his head as he knelt beside his friend, trying to deny what was happening. He was barely aware of the pain as Rin removed his ruined eye and placed Obito’s into the socket. Followed by the soothing of her medical ninjutsu healing the injury and attaching the new eye. It took several minutes for Kakashi’s vision to clear as his brain adjusted to process what he was seeing with the Sharingan.

There was still one enemy shinobi left. Kakashi knew he needed to be dealt with before they could attempt to rescue Obito. If he knew they had survived, he could finish the job and crush them all from outside.

“I’m going to take down that last shinobi before he can tell anyone else about us,” Kakashi said. “Then we can work on getting Obito out of here!” He looked around and saw the ceiling now had an opening large enough for his to fit through. He gathered himself to jump.

“Kakashi… promise me… that you’ll protect Rin,” Obito said, his voice barely audible.

“I will. I promise. You’ll help too once we get you out of here. Just hold on!”

Using his chakra to propel himself, Kakashi leapt upwards. He landed on the mound of rock and dirt that had once been the roof of the cavern. He spotted the last Hidden Stone shinobi sitting nearby. He drew a pair of kunai as the man, sensing him, turned.

“Still alive, huh,” His face twisted into a cruel, ugly grin. “Shinobi shouldn’t cry. Even if you are just a brat. Let’s finish this, crybaby!” he taunted, seeing the tears that streamed down Kakashi’s face form his new eye.

Kakashi ignored the taunts. His face set in determination, he hurled himself towards the enemy. They exchanged blows, the sound of metal striking metal ringing in their ears. One of Kakashi’s kunai went flying off into the trees. He let out a frustrated growl. Due to his small stature, Kakashi was at a disadvantage in close-quarters combat. He was strong and agile for his age but he simply couldn’t match the brute strength of a fully-grown shinobi. His opponent was fast but Kakashi was beginning to learn to anticipate his moves with the Sharingan. Still, he needed to get some distance so he could end this.

“Running away?” the Stone shinobi sneered as Kakashi jumped into the trees. “It’s too late for that, brat!”

Kakashi wove the hand signs for the Chidori. Lightning chakra gathered around his hand as the shinobi appeared before him, bearing down with the intent to finish him off for good. Kakashi leapt straight for him, not noticing his smirk as he assumed Kakashi was launching a suicidal frontal assault. The smirk turned to wide-eyed shock as Kakashi’s hand pierced his heart. Kakashi dropped to his knees, gasping for breath, as the body of the last Stone shinobi fell to the ground, unmoving. Legs shaking, he climbed back to his feet and stumbled back to the opening at the top of the pile of rubble.

“Is he -?” Rin asked, noticing Kakashi had returned.

“Dead,” Kakashi confirmed. He peered inside the remnants of the cave, hoping his new vantage point would give him a better idea of how Obito was pinned and hopefully find a way to free him He felt drained and shaky. Had he put too much chakra into his Chidori? He couldn’t take the time to worry about it now and instead turned his full attention to solving the problem of freeing Obito.

His attention diverted, he failed to notice the group of Hidden Stone shinobi who were approaching their position rapidly.

* * *

Sakumo’s heart seized upon seeing the enemy shinobi converging on his son, who appeared not to have noticed them. Kakashi lay on top of a pile of boulders, his back to the approaching enemy. He reeked of blood, at least some of it his own. Desperation and a burst of chakra gave Sakumo the surge of speed he needed to cover the final few meters. Drawing his tanto, he leapt heedlessly into the midst of the Hidden Stone shinobi, slashing viciously at anything that moved; his need to protect his child overriding everything else.

It was over almost before it had begun. Sakumo’s appearance had caught the Stone shinobi completely off guard. Several were cut down before they even realized he was there and more fell before they could react. Lightning chakra crackled around his blade, leaving a white trail in its wake. A few managed to attempt a clumsy – and useless – defense. Those who tried to flee were cut down by the remainder of Sakumo’s team.

“Dad?” Kakashi was sitting upright, staring at the carnage. He was sensed the enemy shinobi but before he could react, there had been a blur of silver and familiar lightning chakra and the Stone shinobi had begun to fall like wheat before a farmer’s scythe. Kakashi stared at his father blankly, trying to reconcile his presence here. Wasn’t he supposed to be patrolling the Land of Fire’s border? What was he doing so far in enemy territory? Was he hallucinating?

Sakumo straightened, looking around to make certain none of the enemy would be getting up again. He absently wiped the blood off his blade before returning it to the sheath on his back. He turned to face his son. Kakashi looked rather shell-shocked, wide-eyed and what was visible of his face above his mask was pale. A fresh scar ran vertically through his left eyebrow and continued down his cheek. His left eye was no longer dark grey but red and black.

_Sharingan!?_ Sakumo thought, shocked. _But how? There is no Uchiha in our family lineage and the Sharingan does not appear outside that Clan. Oh no! Obito!_

“Kakashi!” came a muffled, feminine voice before Sakumo could question his son to the location of the rest of his team.

Kakashi spun towards the sound, disappearing into the mound of dirt and rock. Startled by Kakashi’s lack of response and his sudden disappearance, Sakumo issued quick orders for his team to secure the area and keep a lookout for more of the enemy. A moment later, he had dropped into what appeared to be a collapsed cave. Rin was kneeling with Kakashi standing beside a huge boulder. Tears streaked Rin’s face. Kakashi was blocking his view but Sakumo caught sight of the hand clutched in Rin’s

_Oh no…_

“Kakashi, Obito – he – he’s –“ her voice choked off.

Sakumo moved closer. It was as he feared, Obito was crushed beneath the boulder. He wasn’t moving and Sakumo couldn’t sense his chakra. Rin raised her tearstained face at the movement as he approached. Kakashi didn’t react at all. “Kakashi, get Rin out of here.” Sakumo kept his tone gentle, but commanding. He reached down and pulled the girl gently to her feet. Kakashi looked at him blankly, as if he hadn’t understood a word of what Sakumo had just said. “Go on. Take Rin outside. Now.”

Rin’s touch on his arm seemed to snap him out of his stupor. He nodded woodenly and took her hand, helping her out of the collapsed cave. Sakumo knelt beside Obito and felt for a pulse. Nothing. He bowed his head, one hand clenching into a fist as he silently cursed the war that had dragged on long enough to force the Hidden Leaf to send her children into it. He allowed himself only a brief moment to mourn for the kind-hearted boy before leaping clear of the cave himself. Grief would have to wait.

“What happened? Where’s Namikaze?” That there had been no sign of the blond jonin concerned Sakumo. Had something happened to him, forcing his team to try to carry on by themselves?

“We split up,” Rin explained. Kakashi was unusually quiet and still, even for him, He looked as if he was about to pass out. “Minato-sensei went to distract a contingent of Hidden Stone shinobi on the front lines. We continued on. I was captured by the Hidden Stone shinobi and brought here. Obito…” She swallowed hard. “Obito…” She gestured helplessly to the mound of boulders.

Hearing the tears in Rin’s voice snapped Kakashi back to the present. _Obito!_ He thought. _Hold on! I won’t abandon you!_ He flung himself at the mound of earth and stone, clawing at it with his bare hands. He ignored the pain as the nails tore and hid flesh was scraped. He _needed_ to rescue Obito. He was trapped under the debris. He had saved Kakashi’s life. Kakashi _couldn’t_ let him die. Realizing there was no way he could move the stones with his bare hands, he wove the hand signs for an earth jutsu, slamming his palm onto the ground. The jutsu caused the ground the heave, throwing the boulders and collapsed earth haphazardly.

“Kakashi –“ Sakumo began. He whirled, drawing his tanto as another chakra signature appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Minato halted in his tracks as a cold blade pressed against his throat, his hair standing on end from the lightning chakra pulsing through it. “Dammit, Namikaze!” Sakumo snapped, lowering the blade. He had nearly killed the man.

To his credit, Minato took the appearance of Sakumo’s team in stride. “What happened?” he asked as if he hadn’t just nearly been beheaded. He knew it was bad. Rin’s face was streaked with tears and Kakashi appeared to have gone insane, rocks and earth hurling around him. Obito was nowhere in sight.

The rest of Sakumo’s team gathered around as Rin finished filling them in on what had occurred since their team had split up. Isamu gave Sakumo a questioning look, his gaze flickering to Kakashi, who was still desperately trying to remove the mound atop his friend. Sakumo nodded once and went to his son. He grasped Kakashi’s wrists to prevent him from trying another jutsu. Mismatched eyes stared up at him in confusion.

“Stop, Kakashi,” Sakumo said softly.

“I – I have to get to Obito! He’s trapped!”

“Isamu will help. He’s an earth-style ninjutsu user. Come away and give him room.” He guided Kakashi back to where the others waited, deeply concerned. Kakashi had never lost anyone close to him before and it was clear he was not handling it well.

It took a few more minutes to uncover Obito’s body from beneath the boulders and earth that covered it. Jiro knelt beside him, checking for any sign of life. Kakashi and Rin looked on helplessly. Jiro looked up and shook his head. There was nothing he could do. “The best we can do is destroy the body. That will keep the Hidden Stone from getting their hands on his Sharingan.”

“No!” Kakashi screamed. “No! We – we have to take him home!”

“Kakashi,” Sakumo said, placing his hands on Kakashi’s shoulders and forcing him to look at him. “We cannot carry his body all the way back to the Hidden Leaf. We have to move fast and light.”

“No…” Tears streaked Kakashi’s pale face. He looked stricken and very, very young. “Obito – he – he -- pushed me out of the way!” 

Grief combined with guilt, Sakumo realized grimly. It was a powerful combination. One that could lead his son down a path of self-destruction if he wasn’t careful. “Then do not dishonor his sacrifice by allowing the enemy to claim his kekkei genkai,” Sakumo said.

Kakashi flinched as if struck. Minato took a half-step toward them, opening his mouth to protest Sakumo’s harsh words. The words died in his throat under the White Fang’s icy glare. Sakumo was not a cruel man. His heart ached at seeing his son’s pain and mourned the loss of a young life cut tragically short. He wanted nothing more than to comfort his son, to leave the war behind and let him mourn his friend. But they were shinobi and still on a mission deep within hostile territory. They couldn’t afford for Kakashi – or any of them – to go to pieces now. Later, back in the village, he could mourn properly. Now he needed to remain focused. Minato bowed his head, understanding what Sakumo was doing, even if he hated it. His instinct was to comfort and try to soothe the hurt but he knew the other man was correct – Kakashi needed to pull himself together and Sakumo’s sharp tone would cut through his grief better than Minato’s soothing.

Kakashi was shaking as the jutsu consumed Obito’s body, turning it to nothing more than ash that blew away in the wind to scatter throughout the forest. Rin was crying softly but he couldn’t bring himself to try to comfort her. Minato had one arm around her shoulders. His tears had ceased. He felt hollow and numb. He was dimly aware of his father’s hand on his shoulder, offering silent comfort and support. Everything seemed muted and very far away.

Sakumo caught Kakashi as he collapsed and lowered him carefully to the ground. Jiro knelt beside them, checking the unconscious boy over quickly as Minato and Rin moved closer anxiously. “I don’t detect any serious injuries,” he assured them. “Though his chakra is dangerously low. There’s not much I can do for him. He should regain consciousness on his own in a few hours.”

Sakumo nodded in acknowledgement. They were in the middle of enemy territory and Minato’s team still had a mission to complete. He motioned Minato over. “How far are we from Kannabi Bridge?”

“Not far,” Minato replied. “A couple of hours at most, assuming we don’t run into a large number of enemy shinobi.” He crouched down and unrolled his map. “We’re here. Kannabi Bridge is here. I took out a large Hidden Stone force over there just before heading back this way to regroup with the rest of the team.” He pointed to each location as he spoke. “According to our intelligence, there aren’t any more significant forces in the area.”

Sakumo glanced up at Michiko. She nodded; their latest intelligence indicated the same. Sakumo’s mind already working. “We came to warn you of that force. It appears you already knew. At any rate, your mission was to destroy that bridge. We still need to do so.”

“We? What about your --?”

“We were patrolling the border though I have a certain amount of leeway should an opportunity arise to hinder the enemy. Your team is currently at half-strength.” He didn’t add that Rin wasn’t looking too steady at the moment, either. “Taking out Kannabi Bridge could very well help bring about an end to this war. We’ll come alone as back-up.”

Minato was silently relieved. They could use the help. A team of elite jonin could very well be handy given how this mission had gone thus far.

Sakumo got to his feet. He hated war. “Rin,” he said, “Can you travel?”

“Yes, sir.” She wiped the dried tears from her cheeks as her face took on a determined look.

Sakumo motioned her and his team over. “We’re going to destroy that bridge and hopefully end this damn war. Namikaze will take point – you know where we’re going. Michiko will go with you. She’s a sensor-type and can let us know before we stumble into a patrol.” Minato nodded, not arguing as Sakumo issued orders. This may have been his mission, but he was not going to squabble over leadership. Sakumo was a brilliant strategist and had years of experience on him. He was more than willing to follow the man. Especially, he thought regretfully, since his decision to split his team appeared to have been a poor one. He had hoped to distract the enemy forces from their movements, Even though he had taken out a huge enemy force, he hadn’t been here to protect his team.

Isamu helped settle Kakashi securely on Jiro’s back while Rin adjusted his pack to fit her. At Sakumo’s signal, Minato headed out first with Michiko. He sensed rather than heard the others following. Rin was next, with Isamu remaining at her side or slightly behind in order to keep a subtle eye on her. Jiro followed them, carrying Kakashi. Sakumo followed last, once again in his usual position as rear-guard, keeping an eye on all of his comrades.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Kannabi Bridge mission was one I struggled with writing for a while. In my initial draft, Obito survived but it never felt quite right. After rereading and rewatching and thinking about it, the more I wondered if it really would have turned out any differently. In the series, Kakashi always thinks things would have been different had he gone with Obito immediately to rescue Rin so that's what I used to base changing it on. But the more I looked at it, the more it seems that it's his guilt talking more than anything. I realized that the way I had originally written this scene didn't work - it felt forced and cheap and too obviously "fix-y".


	21. Chapter 21

Minato halted shortly before sunset. Sakumo was at his side instantly.

“The bridge isn’t far now,” Minato said, keeping his voice pitched low. He hadn’t sensed any enemy shinobi in the area but it would be foolish to take chances. “We’re less than an hour away now.”

“You think we should wait until morning,” Sakumo stated.

Minato nodded. “If the bridge is guarded, they’ll have the advantage of already knowing the terrain and having defenses set up. The dark would hinder us more than them and we’d already be at a disadvantage. I think we should wait until morning. It also gives Kakashi a chance to recover. I don’t like the idea of leaving him behind, even with a guard. It’s too risky that they’d be found by a patrol.”

Sakumo’s dark eyes narrowed as he stared out into the forest, as if he could see their destination through sheer willpower alone and determine the best course of action. Waiting until morning ran the risk that word could get to the Hidden Stone shinobi that there were infiltrators from the Leaf on the way. The probability was small, but it _was_ possible. He glanced at the other shinobi with them. Everyone was tired, himself included. Minato’s team had faced battle on the way here. He had pushed his team hard in order to make it in time to back them up. Kakashi was still out cold, showing no signs of waking anytime soon. Rin looked ready to drop, she was already half-asleep on her feet.

“We’ll wait until morning,” he agreed, turning his gaze back to the blond. “We’ll set up camp here. No fire. We’ll keep watch in pairs.”

“Sensei,” Rin said hesitantly. “We lost our packs. Do we still have enough explosives to destroy the bridge?”

Minato rummaged through his pack, then handed her a scroll. She glanced at it and saw it was a sealing scroll. “There’s some in there,” he explained. “Though I don’t know if it’ll be enough. If we concentrate them in a single area, we may be able to damage the bridge enough to make it unusable for a while.” They had split the ordinance among the team. He hadn’t anticipated losing three-quarters of their supplies en route. He looked at Sakumo. “I don’t suppose you have a supply of explosives on you? Does anyone on your team know a good jutsu for bringing a bridge down?”

Sakumo reached into his weapons pouch and pulled free his entire supply of explosive tags. He handed them over to Minato. The rest of his team did the same. “Check Kakashi’s weapon’s pouches,” Sakumo suggested.

Jiro, who was in the process of settling Kakashi into his own bedroll, tossed the boy’s pouches to Sakumo. Catching them easily, he rummaged through them, finally pulling a sealing scroll free. Checking the listed contents, he handed it to Minato.

“How did you know?” Minato asked.

“Kakashi likes to keep important items on his person, rather than his pack,” Sakumo explained. He shrugged. “It’s something he’s done since he was little and it’s become habit now. I figured something critical to completing his mission would qualify.”

“That’s about half the explosives we had, plus the explosive tags,” Minato did some mental calculations. “It should be just enough.”

Sakumo went and knelt beside Jiro, who checking over Kakashi again now that he was settled. His son showed no signs of waking.

“He’s still out,” Jiro said unnecessarily. “Though his chakra levels are a bit higher than before.” He frowned. “Sakumo, even if he’s conscious and able to travel by morning, he’s not going to be able to use ninjutsu. Not without severe risk. Chakra exhaustion takes time to recover from; his chakra levels are going to be low for days. And there’s something else that concerns me…”

“What is it?”

“Well, I’m not entirely certain how accurate this is but for what it’s worth: one of my Uchiha colleagues once said something about the Sharingan using chakra when it’s active. I checked Kakashi’s eyes. The Sharingan hasn’t deactivated. I don’t know if he’s even capable of doing so, not being an Uchiha himself.”

Sakumo’s brows drew together as he considered that. “You’re saying that his chakra is being constantly drained? That the Sharingan is going to kill him?”

“No!” Jiro said hastily. “He’s recovered somewhat so that’s not the case. It appears that while the eye is closed it does not affect his chakra levels, much as a deactivated Sharingan in an Uchiha. I would recommend he keep it covered in order to make certain he doesn’t inadvertently drain his chakra. At least until we can return to the village and speak with someone who’s more well versed in the Sharingan’s effects. I’m sorry, Sakumo, it’s just not my area of expertise.”

Sakumo placed a hand on Jiro’s shoulder. “It’s fine. Get some rest while you can. Isamu and I are taking first watch.” His tone left no room for argument, though he saw Minato frown from across the camp. Sakumo had no intention of usurping the younger man’s authority but he also had no desire togo into combat with an exhausted and chakra depleted team. Minato and his team had already seen combat that day. There was no reason for them not to rest and recover while they could. Sakumo’s team was more than capable of keeping watch tonight.

* * *

Kakashi regained consciousness shortly before dawn. He untangled himself from the blanket he was wrapped in and sat up, looking around in confusion. He relaxed slightly as he caught sight of Rin, who was just beginning to stir. She was unharmed. He took in the rest of the small camp, his gaze settling on his father, who was deep in conversation with Minato and a female shinobi he didn’t know. He tried to organize his thoughts. The previous day’s events were a confused jumble. He’d hoped it had somehow been nothing more than a bad dream. His father’s presence proved otherwise. He swallowed hard against the grief that threatened to choke him.

A man he vaguely recognized as one of his father’s teammates knelt beside him. “You’re finally awake,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

At the sound of the conversation, the others turned towards them. 

“Kakashi, you’re awake!” Minato said brightly, relief written across his face. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, sensei,” Kakashi said. He ignored the soft snorts from around the camp. Physically, at least, he _was_ mostly fine. A bit tired, but his low chakra could account for that. Even if he wasn’t… well, he was a shinobi; so long as he could fight, he would.

“Jiro?” Sakumo addressed the man beside Kakashi. His expression betrayed his concern and Kakashi was grateful he remained where he was rather than coming over to him and fussing. He was not some little child who needed to be coddled. He ruthlessly ignored the tiny part of him that wished his father would do just that.

“His chakra’s still low but otherwise, he’s okay.” Jiro turned to face Kakashi. “As far as I’m aware, you are not going to be able to deactivate the Sharingan. It’s going to drain your chakra so long as it’s active. I have no idea how quickly it’ll deplete your chakra.” At Kakashi’s frown, he continued. “You’ll need to keep the eye closed – covered would be better – unless you absolutely need it. For the next several days at least you need to make certain not to use the Sharingan or ninjutsu. Your chakra levels are too low and you could easily end up depleting your reserves completely.” He didn’t need to remind Kakashi of what would happen should his chakra be completely drained. A shinobi whose chakra fell to zero would die.

Kakashi nodded to show he understood and absently reached for his headband. His fingers brushed his hair and he frowned slightly until he remembered that he’d lost it the previous day. In the chaos of the fight and their hurry to save Rin, he’d forgotten to pick it up once Obito had bandaged his eye. He lowered his hand and stared blankly at his fingers. He didn’t want to think about Obito. It hurt too much. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut against the rising tide of emotion. Shinobi weren’t supposed to show emotion.

He cursed himself as he startled when he felt someone tying something around his head. An inattentive shinobi was a dead shinobi. He opened his eyes to find his father crouched in front of him, his unruly bangs falling over his forehead, looking messier than usual. It took Kakashi almost a full minute to realize Sakumo had given him his own headband. He reached up with one hand, pretending he didn’t notice the slight tremor that ran through it, and tugged it down so it covered his left eye. He raised his remaining eye to his father’s face.

“Dad, I –“ He wanted to say something, anything. He needed to explain how it was his fault Obito had died. But he couldn’t find the words, couldn’t bear the thought of seeing the disappointment on his father’s face when he learned just how badly Kakashi had failed..

Sakumo’s eyes were soft as he silently ruffled Kakashi’s hair; a comfortingly fond and familiar gesture. He stood, going back to discuss strategy with Minato. Kakashi swallowed the lump in his throat and busied himself with packing up the borrowed bedroll while the others finished packing up their camp. He had expected his father to echo the accusations that were in his own head. He had been the squad leader, he had been in charge of the mission. Obito and Rin were his responsibility. And he had failed them both. His guilt threatened to choke him. He didn’t deserve to be a jonin, should never have been placed in charge of the team. He let out a shuddering breath as they resumed their journey towards Kannabi Bridge, wrapped in his dark, self-accusatory thoughts.

“Kakashi,” Sakumo had fallen into step beside him. He slowed his pace to allow the others to draw a bit ahead before continuing. “I need to know if you can finish the mission.” Kakashi looked sharply at his father, stung. His father had never doubted him before and the thought that he did now cut deep. “You’re placing everyone in danger if you cannot get your head on straight,” Sakumo continued. “Losing a comrade is never easy but now is not the time to grieve or second-guess yourself.”

Kakashi looked away, staring at the ground in front of him. “It was my fault,” he said softly. “I was the captain. Obito pushed me out of the way and –“ He swallowed hard. “—and I can’t even bring his body home for a proper burial.”

“I know it’s hard. But for a shinobi with a kekkei genkai, there’s too much risk to transport the body. If the team were captured or killed, the enemy would get their hands on it and would waste no time in studying and using it. It’s better to destroy it than let the enemy use it aginst the Leaf later. His family will understand that.”

Kakashi was quiet as they continued. He knew that Obito would be horrified if an enemy managed to use his Sharingan against the Hidden Leaf. He pressed his hand against the covered eye Obito had given him. Several minutes later, he looked back up at his father. “I’m fine,” he said resolutely. “I won’t let Obito die in vain. That means making certain to finish the mission and keeping my promise to protect Rin.”

Sakumo studied him out of the corner of his eye for a long moment as if weighing his resolve. Finally, he nodded once. “Very well.”

* * *

“We’re getting close,” Michiko said, keeping her voice pitched low so as not to carry. “I can sense a bunch of chakra signatures just up ahead. The closest is a group of at least fifty. My bet is they’re guarding the bridge. There are a few outliers, probably either patrols or sentries. There’s another twenty or so spread out on what I’m guessing is the far side of the bridge based on how far away they are. They wouldn’t be expecting an attack to come from that side.” She drew a crude sketch in the dirt of the bridge and the approximate enemy locations.

“That’s quite a few more shinobi than we expected,” Minato admitted. “How did they get tipped off?”

“They may not have,” Sakumo answered. “There are any number of reasons for the Hidden Stone to increase security on the bridge.”

“Whatever the reason, it certainly makes our mission that much harder.” He ran a hand absently through his hair. “The idea was to take out any guards quickly and quietly, then set the explosives. With so many shinobi, we’ll never get close to the bridge without them noticing.”

“Then I think we should make certain to be noticed,” Sakumo said.

“Uh – what?”

“Can you get in behind this group –“ Sakumo indicated the largest group of shinobi on their side of the bridge “- and cause some confusion. Then get out before these –“ he pointed to the shinobi on the far side of the bridge “- catch you in between them?”

“Yes. But I need to be able to set markers in order to use my jutsu.” He held up one of his custom kunai, showing Sakumo the jutsu formula written on the handle. “That’s the hard part.”

“So _that’s_ how you got back from the front lines so quickly yesterday,” Sakumo mused.

“Yes. Kakashi has one of my kunai.”

“I see. So anyone can set the markers, it doesn’t have to be you?”

“That’s right.”

“Good. Pass a few over.” Sakumo’s lips curved upwards into a predatory grin. “I think the White Fang strolling into the middle of their camp should get their attention. I’ll go straight in and set your markers. You hit them from behind. Just make certain you’re out before the shinobi on the other side of the river make it across the bridge. I don’t want you getting caught between them. Michiko, Isamu, and Jiro will take care of the outliers and then flank the main group. Once we engage the Stone shinobi, Kakashi and Rin can take advantage of their distraction to get in and set the charges to blow the bridge.”

“You’re going to just walk into the middle of their camp?” Minato asked. “That’s insane.”

Sakumo shrugged. “Probably,” he agreed. “Are you going to give me those kunai or what?”

“I—“ Seeing no one on Sakumo’s team seemed to have any objection to their captain walking into the thick of the enemy in an apparent suicide mission, Minato handed him several of his kunai without another word. He reminded himself that Sakumo was one of the strongest and most skilled shinobi to ever come out of the Hidden Leaf.

Sakumo hefted one of the three-bladed kunai, getting a feel for the weight and balance of it. Satisfied, he slipped them into his weapons pouch where they’d be within easy reach. He motioned for his team to begin moving into position. They split up and began moving in a wide circle around the Hidden Stone’s encampment.

“Kakashi, Rin, wait until we’ve engaged the enemy before making your move towards the bridge,” Minato said. “Use their distraction to your advantage. I don’t want you two to engage them unless absolutely necessary. Understood?”

“Yes, sensei,” Rin said and Kakashi nodded. Kakashi was a bit put out at being kept from the battle but he understood the reasoning. His chakra levels were still low, meaning he couldn’t use ninjutsu without risking death. Rin was a capable shinobi but her strength lay in medical ninjutsu rather than combat techniques. It made sense for them to avoid combat if possible.

They moved silently until they were nearly at the tree line. Kannabi Bridge was just visible from their vantage point. Minato drew a kunai as Sakumo walked boldly out from the tree cover, his posture relaxed as if he was just out for a morning stroll. He waited, watching, as Sakumo casually tugged at the cuffs of his gloves as the nearest Stone shinobi noticed his presence.

In a blur of motion, Sakumo charged, drawing his tanto with his left hand as he flung the marked kunai behind the enemy shinobi with his right. The raucous laughter of the Hidden Stone shinobi who assumed he had missed his mark was cut off by Minato’s blade silencing them.

“Minato-sensei is so fast,” Rin whispered. One moment he had been crouched beside them, the next, he was in the thick of the fight.

“Well, he’s not called the Yellow Flash for nothing,” Kakashi replied softly. “Come on, we should be able to make our way to the bridge now.” The Hidden Stone encampment was in a state of chaos.

“Right!”

Kakashi and Rin had nearly finished setting the charges when they were discovered near the abutment on the far side of the river. Kakashi shoved Rin behind him as they were surrounded by Hidden Stone shinobi. They couldn’t run. The only option was to stand and fight. He drew a pair of kunai. He had no idea what was going on up on the bridge above them. He had to assume the rest of the Leaf shinobi were still engaged with the enemy. They couldn’t count on backup.

“Well, well, what have we here? A couple of brats playing ninja?” a shinobi wearing a Hidden Stone headband mocked. His fellows snickered. “The Hidden Leaf must be pretty desperate to be sending little kids off to war.”

Kakashi didn’t respond to the taunts. His gaze swept over the area. There were an awful lot of them. Lightning crackled around the kunai as he focused his chakra through them as his father had taught him. It may not be as efficient as using an actual chakra blade but it would increase their cutting power. It also used less chakra than ninjutsu. He was willing to die in order to protect Rin but he wasn’t going to sell his life cheaply. The more of them he could take out, the better.

“Oh, what’s this?” the leader’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Kakashi more closely. “Silver hair and lightning chakra, huh. I heard that the White Fang was rumored to be moving in this direction. With his reputation I always figured he’d be more than a little brat. Ah well, reality never does live up to the hype.” His expression turned ugly. “Kill them.”

Several shinobi rushed straight at them, assuming they young Leaf shinobi would be easy prey. Kakashi raised his kunai and braced himself. Against so many opponents it would be unwise to throw his kunai. He felt Rin tense behind him.

A rush of wind and a familiar streak of white light and the shinobi who had been rushing them dropped to the ground.

“Dad!” Kakashi gasped as the rest of the Stone shinobi faltered in the face of this new enemy.

“Kakashi! Rin! Go! Finish the mission!” Sakumo shouted. His features twisted into a vicious snarl as he faced the group of Stone shinobi. He dropped into a fighting stance, tanto at the ready, lightning cracking around the blade like a living thing. Like hell he was going to let even one of them reach his son.

“What are you cowards waiting for? He’s just one man! Kill him, then finish off those brats!”

Kakashi’s eyes were wide as he watched his father engage the enemy shinobi as they gathered their courage and charged at him. He had watched his father train his entire life but he had never seen him in actual combat. White chakra streaked behind each of Sakumo’s swings as he cut through the enemy ranks. His grey eyes were cold and his lips curled back in a soundless snarl as he felled the Stone shinobi that surrounded him with brutal efficiency. The air was thick with the killing intent that seemed to roll off of him in waves. This was not his gentle and soft-spoken father with his easy smile and encouraging words. This was the White Fang, a powerful ninja feared throughout the shinobi world. Kakashi swallowed hard and grabbed Rin’s wrist as he forced his eyes away.

“Come on!” he shouted, tugging her along to finish setting the charges. Seeing his father fight was both awesome and terrifying. Rin snapped her mouth shut and nodded, allowing him to lead her back to where they were setting the explosives and exploding tags against the bridge’s supports.

It took Sakumo no time to cut through the Hidden Stone’s ranks to come toe to toe with their leader.

“Who – who _are_ you?” he gasped. Over half his men had been strewn across the area, taken down by a single man. He wasn’t wearing a headband, but he was dressed as a jonin of the Hidden Leaf.

“ _I’m_ the White Fang,” Sakumo growled and he finished the man off unceremoniously.

Those within earshot began backing away warily as the lifeless body slid from Sakumo’s tanto to hit the ground with a dull thud. Several turned to flee. They didn’t make it far as Minato suddenly appeared behind them, cutting his way through their remaining ranks.

“That’s the last of them,” he said, coming to stand beside Sakumo. “Michiko said she didn’t sense anyone else in the area.”

Sakumo nodded and turned to the bridge. It appeared that Kakashi and Rin had almost finished setting the explosives. A few minutes later the Hidden Leaf shinobi regrouped and watched as Kannabi Bridge was turned into a pile of rubble falling unceremoniously into the river it had spanned.

“Well,” Minato finally said. “That’s done.”

“We’ll travel with you back to the border,” Sakumo said. “We’ll resume our patrol while you head back to the Hidden Leaf.”

“Right,” Minato agreed. He gazed at the ruined bridge for another minute. It seemed anticlimactic somehow. “Let’s go home.”


	22. Chapter 22

Days like today, Hiruzen wished the Second Hokage had chosen someone – _anyone_ \- else to be his successor as he keenly felt every ounce of responsibility and every one of his years weighing down heavily upon him. When Minato Namikaze and his team had returned from Kannabi Bridge word had spread like wildfire that Kakashi Hatake was in possession of the Sharingan. Hiruzen had spent several days reading mission reports and interviewing the team, making certain of the facts surrounding the youth’s acquisition of the eye. While he did not believe Kakashi was capable of murdering a friend or stealing a kekkei genkai, he needed to be as certain as possible about what had transpired. The Uchiha jealously guarded their Clan’s dojutsu and an outsider possessing it was certain to meet with opposition.

And it had.

Which had led to an internal crisis that threatened to plunge the Leaf into a civil war if not handled properly. One of the Uchiha’s members, an unremarkable man in his early twenties, had taken exception to the non-Clan boy’s possession their Clan dojutsu. He had attacked Kakashi in an attempt to take the Sharingan from him. As he had not awakened the Sharingan for himself, it was suspected he had hoped to claim it from Kakashi. He had grossly underestimated the boy’s skill and sense of self-preservation. Kakashi had killed the man in what was clearly self-defense. That didn’t mean there was no fallout, however. An already tense situation, Hiruzen now had the unenviable task of keeping it from becoming a powder keg and plunging the Leaf Village into civil war.

One third of his current crisis stood stiffly across his desk from him – Fugaku Uchiha, head of the Uchiha Clan. He looked displeased at being summoned. Hiruzen resisted the urge to massage his temples against a building headache.

“Fugaku, while I understand that there is opposition within your Clan about Kakashi Hatake’s possession of the Sharingan, I cannot condone attacks on a shinobi of this village in an attempt to take it back. We’re just coming out of a protracted war. I’m sure I don’t have to explain why we _must_ avoid internal conflict, lest the uneasy peace between nations be shattered by those seeking to take advantage of our further weakness.”

For his part, Kakashi had been shaken by being attacked by a fellow Leaf shinobi in the village itself. He was otherwise unharmed and was now safely at home with a quartet of ANBU keeping watch over him to ensure there were no more unfortunate _incidents._ Leaving Hiruzen to soothe the ruffled feathers of the Uchiha who were already unhappy with the Hatake boy’s possession of the Sharingan. His only consolation was that Sakumo was currently out of the village. Otherwise, he would likely abdicate on the spot. As it was, he was not looking forward to the man’s return. Few things could truly enrage Sakumo. An attack on his son by a member of one of the village Clans was something that was sure to set him off. As Hokage, it was going to fall to Hiruzen to convince him _not_ to tear down the entire Uchiha compound. He was not looking forward to it. This matter _needed_ to be settled once and for all before Sakumo’s return if he had any hope of avoiding internal conflict.

Hiruzen continued, “I understand that the Sharingan is a dojutsu unique to your Clan. However, if you intend to ask for the return of the eye it _must_ be handled diplomatically. Even though Kakashi is considered an adult under the rules and regulations of the Village, I must insist that his father be present due to his young age. It would be unwise to give even the appearance that the boy was forced to return something his teammate gifted him with.”

Fugaku wished those opposed to allowing the Hatake brat to keep the Sharingan would look beyond their petty pride. Yes, they were well within their rights to demand their Clan’s dojutsu back but it would be political – if not actual - suicide. The Uchiha was an old, large, and powerful Clan. He would like it to remain so. The Hatake, being reduced to a mere two members, was a Clan in name and history only. Sakumo was extremely popular among the other shinobi within the village. There was no doubt other Clans would unite behind him if the Uchiha demanded the Sharingan back from his son. As far as Fugaku was aware Sakumo didn’t have any enemies among the Clans. On the other hand, the Uchiha were not on the best of terms with several other Clans and those would back Hatake simply to spite the Uchiha. Not to mention that the White Fang himself was not someone Fugaku was eager to count as an enemy. He knew of the elder Hatake’s prowess on the battlefield and had no desire to see those skills turned against himself or his Clan.

There was also the circumstances surrounding Kakashi’s possession of the eye to consider. Obito had been pushed to the edge of the Clan upon his parents’ deaths. His mother had been an Uchiha but his father had been an outsider. Marriage outside of the Clan was highly discouraged to put it mildly. Add to that the boy’s habitual tardiness and seeming lack of skill in a Clan that prided itself on producing exceptional shinobi and it had been no surprise that he was an outcast. It had been a shock to learn the boy had awakened the Sharingan. The dojutsu was rare, only appearing in a few members of the Clan. No one had ever thought Obito would be one of those few to possess it. Yet he had. Then he had gifted it to his best friend, knowing he was going to die. A dying wish was not something to be dismissed lightly. Especially not from a boy the entire Clan had all but shunned.

To further compound things, there was the matter of Kakashi’s age. While already a jonin, he was still a twelve-year old boy. The rest of the village would not look favorably upon a Clan who would forcibly remove an eye from a child. The foolish attack on the boy had now made it all but impossible for them to even consider asking for the return of the Sharingan. Fugaku wished the idiot hadn’t gotten killed by Kakashi so he could kill him himself. No one was going to believe that the attack on Kakashi was unsanctioned if the Uchiha asked for the Sharingan back now. Fugaku did not want the rest of the village believing that he would condone such an attack. It would only serve to widen the rift that already existed between his Clan and the rest of the Hidden Leaf.

“It is my understanding that Obito Uchiha fought bravely in the Third War and it was his dying wish to impart his Sharingan to Kakashi Hatake,” Fugaku stated. “The Uchiha will honor his wishes.” The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. He continued. “We do not seek any reparations for the death of our Clansman. His attack upon the Hatake boy was unsanctioned and goes against our values as a Clan. His death was a result of his own actions in attacking a jonin of the village.”

Hiruzen relaxed inwardly. Fugaku was a proud man but he was not an unreasonable one. He was willing to allow Kakashi to keep his Sharingan in order to keep the peace within the village. He recognized that Kakashi had acted in self-defense when he had killed his assailant and would not pursue any further action against the boy. Hiruzen believed him when he said the Uchiha would leave Kakashi alone. The matter settled, he dismissed the clan head and returned to his never-ending mound of paperwork. He just hoped Sakumo would believe him as well.

* * *

A blood-curdling scream wrenched Sakumo from the depths of sleep. His feet hit the cold floor, the kunai he kept tucked beneath his pillow in his hand before his conscious mind realized what the sound was. Heart pounding, he threw open his bedroom door, bolting down the hall to Kakashi’s room. His dark eyes swept the room, looking for danger. He had been furious to learn of the attack on his son by a member of the Uchiha. The Hokage has assured him that it had been unsanctioned and would not be repeated. He had accepted Hiruzen’s word. Sakumo wasn’t stupid; he knew full well that if he pursued it, the incident could ignite a civil war within the Hidden Leaf. Kakashi had been physically unharmed so he reluctantly let the matter go. He had remained somewhat on edge, not yet entirely trusting that a similar incident wouldn’t happen again. Not seeing any sign of an assailant, Sakumo turned to his son.

Kakashi was sitting up in bed, shaking violently with his hands pressed against his face, whimpering as if in pain or terror. Sakumo turned on the bedside light as he set the kunai beside it. Kakashi was tangled in his bedding and drenched in sweat. Sakumo gripped his wrists, pulling his hands down so he could assess his injuries.

“Kakashi?” he said gently, forcing his voice to remain level and calm. He was disturbed by the sight of his son. His face was bleeding from what appeared to be self-inflicted nail gouges. Whether it had been something that had occurred while he was trapped in his nightmares or had been a conscious action remained to be seen. Kakashi’s face was pale, his features slack, his expression blank though his face was streaked with blood and tears. His eyes were unfocused and he seemed completely unaware of Sakumo’s presence. “Kakashi!” he repeated, more forcefully.

After several agonizingly long moments, Kakashi’s gaze turned to and focused on him. “Dad?” His eyes fell to his hands, which were still gripped in Sakumo’s own. Sakumo released him. “It – it hurts.”

“What does?” Kakashi pressed a hand to his left eye. Sakumo frowned. “The eye?”

Kakashi nodded, sniffling.

“Let’s go.”

“Where?” Kakashi looked confused.

“Hospital. We’re getting that eye looked at by a medic.”

“But –“

“Don’t argue,” Sakumo growled. Kakashi snapped his mouth shut. Sakumo helped Kakashi disentangle himself from his bedding. Seeing his son’s legs shaking as he stood, Sakumo scooped him up in his arms and headed for the door, ignoring the indignant sounds of protest at being carried like a child.

_He’s getting heavy._ The thought passed through Sakumo’s mind as he called up his chakra for a shunshin. 

If the receptionist at the Leaf Hospital was surprised to see the White Fang show up in the middle of the night, barefoot, dressed in rumpled pajamas, his long hair unbound, with a miniature version of himself sulking in his arms, she didn’t show it. She simply showed them to a room, pressed a wad of gauze against the bleeding wounds on Kakashi’s face with instructions to keep pressure on it while she went to summon a medic. Within a few moments, a doctor had entered the room and was examining Kakashi’s eye. Leaving another medic to clean and bandage the wounds on Kakashi’s face, he motioned Sakumo out into the hallway.

“The medic who performed the transplant of the eye did a good job. It healed well.”

“Then why is he in pain?” Sakumo demanded.

“If it was a more recent transplant I would say that it’s most likely because he is not used to the Sharingan yet. It is not his eye so it will take his body time to adjust. Though it is my understanding that it’s been several weeks since the transplant.” At Sakumo’s nod, he continued. “It is possible that is still the case but I suspect it is psychosomatic in nature. Kakashi said the Sharingan was given to him by a friend he was unable to save on a mission. The guilt he feels may very well be causing his distress, manifesting as physical pain.”

“What do we do?”

“Unfortunately, there’s not much I _can_ do. As cliché as it sounds, time may be the only answer. Kakashi needs to come to terms with his guilt over his friend’s death. If the pain continues for an extended period then I would recommend removing the eye as it is more of a hindrance to him than a help. Unless, of course, he requests that it be removed. I do want to keep him at least overnight to run some more tests and for observation, just to be safe. I am having my assistant cover the eye itself to keep him from using it for now. He needs to rest it for a few days. Assuming everything comes back normal, he’ll be free to leave in the morning.”

“Alright.” Sakumo was well aware that the Hidden Villages lacked any sort of decent mental health care. It seemed a critical oversight considering the things shinobi were ordered to do in service to their village. Tsunade had been pushing for better care before the Second War broke out. Then her focus had turned to including a medic on each team to increase survival. Sakumo was angry that she had essentially abandoned the Village after the Second War. He had understood her need to take some time to work through her grief but it had been years and she had not returned. The shinobi of the Hidden Leaf could use someone like her championing for them.

He returned to Kakashi’s room. As he expected, his son was fidgeting on the edge of the bed. Clean dressing had been applied to where his nails had dug into his face and his left eye was covered with bandages. He hated hospitals. He looked up as Sakumo entered.

“Can we go home now?”

“Not yet. You’re staying overnight.”

“What? Why? I’m _fine_.” He wasn’t _quite_ whining.

“You’re _not_ fine. You woke up screaming in pain.”

“I’m fine _now_ ,” Kakashi insisted.

Sakumo folded his arms across his chest and stared down his son. “You are staying until the doctors tell you that you may leave.”

Kakashi started to open his mouth to argue, then shut it again before any words could escape. His father’s expression clearly said that arguing would be pointless. He scowled at the polished floor as if it had personally offended him.

“I hate hospitals,” he sulked.

Sakumo’s expression softened. “It’s just for tonight. The doctors want to run some more tests to make certain everything’s okay.” He was relieved. If Kakashi was complaining, he was feeling better.

“Dad?” Kakashi said a few moments later.

“Hm?”

Kakashi twisted the fabric of his pajama pants between his fingers. “Will – will you stay with me?”

“Of course.”

Sakumo’s heart both melted and broke at the relief on his son’s face. He motioned for Kakashi to lay back. Making a disgruntled face, Kakashi obeyed, swinging his feet up onto the bed and settling back with an annoyed sigh that clearly said everyone was overreacting and he was quite fine. Sakumo pulled the blankets up over his son, tucking him in and earning a faint eye roll. That he didn’t try to pull away when Sakumo ran a hand through his hair was the biggest tell that he _wasn’t_ as fine as he wanted everyone to think.

Obito was the first friend Kakashi had lost, Sakumo thought sadly, remembering the kind dark-haired boy who had broken through Kakashi’s walls to befriend his son. He wouldn’t be the last. Life as a shinobi was full of loss. It was a dangerous profession with an extremely high mortality rate. He dragged a chair over to Kakashi’s bedside and settled himself in it.

Kakashi’s fingers plucked at the blanket. “It should have been me under that boulder,” he said after several minutes had ticked by. His jaw clenched. “Obito should have left me. He should have taken Rin and gotten out!”

Sakumo’s heart ached. He was helpless to ease his son’s guilt and pain. Loss was an in evitable part of a shinobi’s life but it was never easy to watch friends and comrades die. It was even worse that Kakashi and his peers were so young.

“I doubt Obito could have left you behind any more than you would have abandoned him or Rin had things been different. You are not the only one who wants to protect his comrades, Kakashi. You can wallow in self-pity or you can live in a way that honors the sacrifice Obito made for you.”

Kakashi’s stared at his father. Sakumo had a way of cutting right to the heart of things. Sometimes painfully. He was not going to engage in a circular argument about what Kakashi could or should have done differently or indulge in his self-pity. Learning from one’s mistakes was critical but wallowing in them was dangerous. He turned his gaze to his lap.

“I miss him,” Kakashi said softly. “So much. He was my first real friend.”

“It’s okay to mourn,” Sakumo assured him.

“But the Twenty-Fifth Rule of Shinobi Conduct –“

“’A shinobi should never show tears’,” Sakumo finished. “I’m well aware. The rules exist to keep order during missions when distractions can be fatal to both you and your team. You’re in the village now and not on duty. You _should_ grieve. Just don’t let it consume you.” Sakumo continued, seeing his son wasn’t convinced. “I have mourned for many friends and comrades over the years; from those who died far away in distant lands to those whom I held in my arms when they breathed their last. There is not a day that goes by that I do not miss your mother. But you cannot let it consume you, Kakashi.” He thought again of Tsunade. From what he’d heard from Jiraiya – who attempted to get news of her now and then – her grief had broken her. He wondered if Sayomi’s death would have broken him similarly if Kakashi hadn’t been a helpless infant who needed him.

Kakashi sat in silence for several minutes, mulling over his father’s words. Emotions churned within him when he thought of Obito: guilt, grief, sadness, regret, gratitude. Unable to keep them bottled up any longer, tears began slowly running down his face from his uncovered right eye. His breath hitched as he tried to choke back a sob. A moment later he felt strong arms wrap around him and hold him close. He leaned into the embrace, turning his face against his father’s shoulder to muffle his sobs.

Sakumo perched on the edge of the bed as Kakashi began to cry, gathering him into his arms and rocking him as if he was once again a small child. He hummed softly, a half-remembered lullaby Sayomi had sung to Kakashi as a baby. He was relieved to see Kakashi cry. His son desperately needed the release of emotions that he had been keeping tightly bottled up. He would always remember and miss his friend but now he would be able to move forward once again.

* * *

The following morning the medical ninja cleared Kakashi to be discharged. He gave strict instructions to keep the Sharingan covered for a few days. Kakashi sulked but agreed reluctantly. He did not want to remove the eye. It was not only a gift but also a constant reminder of his final promise to his friend – to protect those precious to him. He couldn’t give it up.

Kakashi wandered aimlessly through the village. He was supposed to take it easy for a few days. Normally, he would ignore such a directive and train. For once he listened to the medical ninja, having no desire to land back in the hospital. Or worse, have his father hovering over him. Kakashi loved his father dearly but Sakumo could be downright smothering when he was worried. He was self-aware enough to recognize that he was having trouble working through his guilt over Obito’s death. Unfortunately, his father saw it, too.

Kakashi came to a sudden stop when he realized where he was. He stood right outside the Uchiha District. When had his feet decided to bring him here? He turned to leave. He shouldn’t be here. There were many among the Uchiha who did not like him possessing the Sharingan. The attack on him by a member of the clan just a few weeks ago was proof enough of that. His presence here could only cause trouble.

Before he realized it, he was bounding across the rooftops, leaping from one building to another. He came to a halt in front of a familiar house. He stood on the quiet street, staring up at it for a long time, lost in memories.

The front door opened and Obito’s grandmother appeared in the doorway. Kakashi tensed. He hadn’t meant to come here and certainly hadn’t intended to stay. He wanted to turn and run bit he was frozen in place. Her gaze landed on him and her eyes crinkled as she smiled.

“Why don’t you come in, Kakashi,” she said pleasantly. “I’ll make us some tea.” 

“I –“ What could he say? He deserved any blame she chose to lay at his feet. He dragged himself up the front steps and into the tidy home. He reluctantly removed his shoes and went into the kitchen, wordlessly helping the old woman set the tea things out on the table.

Kakashi stared morosely into is cup, unable to bring himself to meet the gaze of Obito’s only remaining family. Unable to take it any longer, he carefully set the cup down. He got to his feet and circled around the table so he was beside her. He lowered himself until he was kneeling, his forehead pressed to the floor. “I’m sorry,” he forced out past the tightness in is throat. “Obito saved me. He pushed me out of the way but go trapped himself. I tried but I couldn’t get him out. I –“

“Kakashi,” she interrupted gently. “Get up. Please.”

Slowly, he pulled himself back to his feet, his eyes firmly downcast. He felt a gentle hand on his cheek. Then his headband was pushed up. He looked up, opening both eyes reflexively. Obito’s grandmother smiled at him.

“You are not to blame,” she said.

“But –“

She shook her head. “No, Kakashi. What happened to my grandson was tragic but it was not your fault. He would never have given you his Sharingan if he had thought you were to blame.”

“He – he said he’d be my eye. To see the future with me.”

“That sounds just like Obito,” she agreed. “A shinobi’s life is hard but there is still much good and beauty to be found. Make certain you see those. Obito will certainly help you.” She brushed her fingertips lightly over his left eye. Kakashi nodded. “It’s getting late and I’m certain you have better things to do than sitting around here.” She walked him to the door. “You are always welcome, Kakashi, I would be pleased to see you any time and hear of what you and Obito have seen.”

Kakashi managed a small but genuine smile. “I will.” He pulled his headband down to cover his eye once again as he hurriedly made his way out of the Uchiha District, feeling lighter than he had in the weeks since Kannabi Bridge.

* * *

Kakashi fell to his hands and knees, breathing heavily. Pain flared behind his left eye and he clamped a shaking hand over it with a soft cry. He bit his lip hard, annoyed with himself for allowing the pained sound out to begin with. He was trying to learn how to use the Sharingan Obito had given him but was thus far finding it difficult to master. As the pain slowly faded, he removed his hand, wiping the tears that had welled up away. He noticed there was blood mixed with them as he lowered his hand. His father was going to have a fit if he saw. Sakumo was entirely too overprotective, Kakashi groused. He was a jonin now. But Dad would haul him off to the medical ninja like an errant child if he thought Kakashi was overdoing it again. Then they would tell him to rest and put a guard over him to keep him in bed and he would go mad at having to just lay there and do _nothing._ A tiny, annoying voice in the back of his head pointed out that his father may just be right. He silenced it with a growl of irritation. He didn’t need any part of his brain agreeing that his father was right in dragging him to the hospital for any reason. He _hated_ hospitals.

“You are overusing the Sharingan,” came a rough male voice from above him.

Kakashi raised his head to see Fugaku, the head of the Uchiha Clan looking down at him. He got to his feet, hating the way his legs shook. He felt wrung-out and drained. This always happened when he tried using the Sharingan for any length of time.

“Lord Fugaku,” he said evenly, wondering what the other wanted. He had known that there were many among the Uchiha who were unhappy with his possession of the Sharingan. The Hokage had told him that he would be allowed to keep the gift. He wondered if they had changed their minds and were about to demand it back. He had no idea how that would work and had even less desire to find out.

“So, you’re Kakashi Hatake, the White Fang’s son,” Fugaku said, studying the skinny not-quite teen in front of him. Kakashi returned his appraising gaze evenly. Fugaku hadn’t expected the boy to be nervous. He was the son of one of the most powerful shinobi the world had ever seen and was an accomplished shinobi himself. Kakashi didn’t disappoint. “Tell me, boy, what are you trying to accomplish here? Do you truly think you can master a dojutsu that is not your own?”

Kakashi’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I _will_ master it,” he said firmly. “Obito gave me his Sharingan in order to protect the village and those within it. And that’s just what I’m going to do!”

One corner of Fugaku’s mouth twitched upwards slightly. The boy had spirit and determination if nothing else. He could barely stand and was clearly in pain yet he had the will to show defiance in the face of someone doubting his ability and resolve.

“You are no doubt aware that there are those within my clan who object to an outsider possessing our kekkei genkai. There are those who believe we should take it back. By force, if necessary.”

“Are you?” Kakashi challenged. “Are you going to go against the wishes of one of the members of your Clan? The one who gave this eye to me? If it would bring Obito back, I would give it up in a heartbeat. But it won’t. Nothing will. I wasn’t able to protect him, to save him. But I can use his Sharingan to make myself stronger. So that next time I _will_ protect my friends!” His voice shook slightly with emotion and fatigue but his mismatched eyes were clear and determined.

“I see. And in answer to your question, no, I do not intend to demand it from you. You were Obito’s friend and I understand you fought bravely together during the last war.” He reached out and caught Kakashi’s chin with one hand, tilting the boy’s face up. He wiped the blood away from beneath his left eye, holding his fingertips up in front of the other’s face. “This is a warning that you are overusing it. Listen to it. Even among the Uchiha, overuse of the Sharingan eventually leads to blindness. You have the dojutsu but not the kekkei genkai itself. I have no way to predict how that will impact you. You will likely lose sight in the eye faster because of it.”

Kakashi’s eyes went wide. He hadn’t known about that particular downside.

“Your vision is already blurry, isn’t it? And your chakra is low.” He waited for the boy to nod reluctantly. He released his hold on his chin. “You do not have our stamina. You should use the Sharingan cautiously and sparingly.” He turned abruptly and left Kakashi standing alone on the training field, mulling over what he had just learned.


	23. Chapter 23

Discontent was at an all-time high in the Village Hidden in the Leaves by the time the Third Shinobi War drew to a close and an uneasy peace was established once again between the Five Great Shinobi Nations. There had only been a handful of years of an uneasy peace between the Second and Third Wars. The people of the Leaf Village – both shinobi and civilian alike – were tired of war. Even those “peaceful” years had been fraught with tension and distrust between nations. Shinobi had to remain on high alert whenever they traveled near the borders and incursions and skirmishes were not uncommon. Civilians were tired of their lands being overrun and destroyed as battles were waged and moved through. All of the Hidden Villages had suffered heavy losses.

The Hokage’s decision not to seek reparations from the Land of Earth was a very unpopular one. While he felt that it was a move that would help ease the tension between the two nations, many saw it as weakness. They felt the Land of Fire should demand its due from a nation they had defeated. People were weary and angry and felt they were owed by the land who had inflicted heavy losses upon them, even if it would cause more suffering there. For some, the additional suffering of their recent enemy was seen as a bonus. Tensions continued to mount in the Village Hidden in the Leaves.

Several weeks after the peace treaties with the other nations were finalized and signed by all parties, Hiruzen called a meeting of the Village Council and the daimyo of the Land of Fire along with his councilors to discuss the direction the Hidden Leaf would now move in.

“I intend to resign from my position as Hokage,” Hiruzen stated without preamble.

“I’m sad to hear that,” the daimyo said. “You were doing such a fine job, Lord Third.”

Danzo, who’d been at odds with how Hiruzen had navigated the War and was furious with his decision not to seek reparations, was only too glad to offer his opinion. “To be completely truthful, the Third Hokage was too soft and allowed the village to be pushed into a corner. We need a forceful Hokage who will change the way things are done and will enforce the rules of the shinobi.”

“And? Is there such a person to be found?” the daimyo asked.

“I recommend we choose Orochimaru, one of the Legendary Sannin of the Leaf.”

“In this age of war, Orochimaru is truly nothing short of a genius, there’s no denying that fact. However, a sinister will and intense ambition lurk deep behind those eyes. Such a person cannot be trusted with the duties of the Hokage.” Orochimaru had been Hiruzen’s own student. He could not deny that he had changed over the past few years and not for the better. He had become even more aloof and cold, isolating himself away in his laboratories and eschewing all but the most superficial and necessary interactions with the rest of the village.

“Lord Third, you dare --!” Danzo sputtered.

“I recommend we choose Minato Namikaze,” Hiruzen continued as if Danzo hadn’t spoken. He was unwilling to be drawn into an argument about Orochimaru.

“He’s a shinobi who studied under Jiraiya, in other words, a pupil of your pupil,” Koharu Utatne, one of the Village Elders stated.

“He’s so skilled he’s called the Yellow Flash,” the other Elder, Homura Mitokado, added

“Ohhhhh.” The Fire Daimyo was clearly impressed.

“Minato is still too young!” Danzo protested.

“He won the Battle of Kannabi Bridge and found acclaim by leading the way to the end of the Third Great Shinobi War!”

“I am strongly opposed! He was your student’s student and undoubtedly believes in the same foolish ideals that caused this last war to drag on! We need someone strong to lead us!”

“And what about the rest of you..?” the daimyo asked, uncomfortable with the argument raging between Danzo and the Hokage.

The councilors and advisors began muttering among themselves, mulling over the two choices that had been presented.

Shikaku Nara listened with half an ear to the debates taking place around him as he pondered the issue of who should be named the Fourth Hokage. As Jonin Commander he got a voice in this Council since the new Hokage had to be voted on and approved by the jonin of the village. He knew neither the Hokage nor Danzo was going to back down; both were much too stubborn. Personally, he preferred Minato over Orochimaru for the position. There was no denying that Orochimaru was a brilliant and powerful shinobi. He was one of the legendary Sannin who had stood against Hanzo the Salamander in the Second War, earning great renown. However, he had never been very personable and over the past few years had developed a dark and sinister air about him that made people nervous. Dark rumors were whispered to those who knew to listen about unsavory experiments being conducted in hidden laboratories. Shikaku had no doubt that Danzo had his own ambitions toward the title of Hokage. Or at least ingratiating himself so that he had the Hokage’s ear so he could steer the policies of the Hidden Leaf from the shadows. If he was backing Orochimaru it was because he believed the other could bring him closer to that goal. Shikaku may not have always agreed with the Third Hokage or his methods but he agreed even less with Danzo’s.

Minato, on the other hand, was popular and well liked throughout the village and by his fellow shinobi. The young jonin had made quite the name for himself during the last war as the Leaf’s Yellow Flash and had played a key role in bringing about an end to that war. Only in his early twenties, he was still very young to be named Hokage. Would he be able to stand up to Danzo and his schemes? The other two elders from the Leaf tended to support Danzo’s ideas. They, along with Danzo and Hiruzen, had all been teammates under the Second Hokage’s tutelage. Shikaku wondered if that that played a role in their support or if they truly believed Danzo’s ideals were best. The Leaf needed a Hokage who would not cave to Danzo’s militant way of thinking lest they find themselves embroiled in yet another war.

If neither Orochimaru nor Minato Namikaze were suitable for the position, then who was? Shikaku considered while the argument raged around him, tuning it out and putting his considerable intellect to tackling the problem. He smirked faintly as it came to him. While Hiruzen and Danzo each backed their own candidates, whomever was nominated needed to ultimately be approved by the daimyo before being presented to the jonin for final confirmation. This was only the first meeting with the daimyo in attendance that Shikaku had been present for but from what he had observed, the Fire Daimyo was weak-willed and easily swayed by whomever he happened to like the most at the moment or by whatever idea he found the most appealing. Shikaku suspected it would be easy enough to dazzle him with his option. The Daimyo’s councilors seemed less emotionally motivated and Shikaku had clear facts on his side as well. And he was certain there would be no objections among the village jonin.

There was a lull in the conversation. Both Hiruzen and Danzo were not-quite openly glaring at one another. Each had played out the merits of their choices and the less appealing aspects of the other’s choice. Neither one was willing to budge. While the sitting Hokage had the right to name their successor, it still needed to be approved by the Council, daimyo, and the jonin of the village. The Fire Daimyo was looking back and forth between the two men, clearly uncomfortable at the rising tension between them and unwilling to anger either by breaking the deadlock.

“What about Sakumo Hatake?” a quiet voice broke the tense silence.

All eyes turned to the speaker, Shikaku Nara, the newly appointed Jonin Squad Commander. Seeing he had everyone’s attention, he continued. “He’s as renown as the Sannin; some would argue he’s even more powerful. He has been a shinobi of this village for over two decades and is well respected among even the shinobi of other nations.”

“Oh, the White Fang, hmm?” the Fire Daimyo said, looking pleased. “How interesting! What do the rest of you think?”

A low murmur spread throughout the room as the assembled councilors considered his proposal. They seemed in favor of the idea. There was really nothing about Sakumo for them to object to. He was a powerful shinobi, certainly one of the strongest in the village. He was extremely intelligent. He was well known, even outside of the Land of Fire. He didn’t have any vices that could potentially cause embarrassment for the Village. In his mid-thirties, he was still in his prime while having years of experience. He was decisive and strong willed; yet open minded and fair as well. It was well-known that he was honorable and a man of his word. All desirable qualities for the Hokage, especially now with suspicion and mistrust running so high.

“Sakumo could do well as Hokage,” Hiruzen admitted after a brief consideration. He may have been disappointed that the Jonin Commander wasn’t backing Minato but he did not seem entirely displeased by his idea. The other Councilors and advisors around the table nodded in agreement. Danzo looked as if he wanted to object. He settled for glaring around the room instead. He knew he had lost.

“Then it’s settled!” the daimyo said cheerfully. “I trust that you’ll take care of all the necessary arrangements, Lord Third?”

“Of course. I’ll inform Sakumo of our decision as soon as we’re finished here.”

Shikaku almost wished he could be present when the Hokage broke the news. For all his renown, Sakumo was a humble man. He had no ambitions towards the Hokage’s seat or any other political power; only to be the best shinobi he could and protect his village and those precious to him. That meant he was not going to be thrilled to hear he had been chosen as Hiruzen’s successor. Shikaku decided that giving the White Fang a few days to accept the idea before he found out who had put his name forward would be for the best. Sakumo was going to hate this.

* * *

Sakumo and Kakashi stood in front of a target with two kunai embedded so close together that they touched.

“That one’s closer to the center and its mine,” Sakumo said.

“No way! My kunai is the one that hit closest to the center!” Kakashi protested.

“Mine hit first.”

“Cheater! It did not! You must be getting old or something. Mine clearly was a better shot.”

Their squabbling was cut short as both whirled upon sensing someone approach. A masked ANBU stepped forward. Sakumo’s eyes narrowed slightly. Having a member of the ANBU show up meant something serious was going on. But who was he here for?

“Lord Hokage wishes to see you immediately, Sakumo,” he said.

“I’m on my way.”

“What’s going on, Dad?” Kakashi asked as the ANBU disappeared back into the trees.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m about to find out.” He pulled his kunai from the target and returned it to the sheath strapped to his thigh. “You should work on your target practice while I’m gone!” he called as he leapt to the nearest tree.

“Hey! No fair!” Sakumo heard as he took off. In true shinobi fashion, he leapt from rooftop to rooftop. It was faster than running along the ground where there were too many other people and obstacles to dodge. He had told Kakashi the truth, he didn’t know what was going on. But if the Hokage had sent one of his ANBU to summon him, it must be serious and time was of the essence.

It took him only minutes to reach Hokage Tower and bound up the stairs two-at-a-time to the level which housed the administrative offices.

“You wanted to see me?” Sakumo asked as he was waved into the Hokage’s office.

“Yes, Sakumo. Thank you for coming so quickly. I intend to step down from being the Hokage.” Hiruzen got right to the point. “You have been recommended for the position.”

Sakumo stared, speechless. “You what?” he blurted, finally finding his voice.

“I’m stepping down as Hokage.”

“I got that part.”

“I want you to be the next Hokage. The Council and Daimyo agree.”

Certain this was some sort of prank, Sakumo laughed. The very thought was absurd. He was a good shinobi but he was not suited to the Hokage’s chair. The very notion was preposterous. Sakumo’s reaction was not unexpected. Hiruzen simply sat calmly, keeping his gaze steady until the other man regained control of himself. Sakumo reigned in his mirth, slowly realizing the other was serious.

“You’re serious.”

“Yes.”

He snorted softly. “Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t want the job.”

“Sakumo,” Hiruzen said. “I know you’ve never had any ambitions towards being Hokage. That is _exactly_ why the Village needs you.”

“You’ve lost me.”

“After this last war, the Leaf Village needs a strong leader. Someone they can trust to lead going forward. Someone who can bring about change. You have amassed quite the reputation as a powerful shinobi over the years. Not just in the Hidden Leaf but throughout the shinobi world. You’re well respected. You are what we need going forward.” Seeing the other man was still not convinced, he continued. “I understand you have doubts. But believe me when the entire Council agreed you’d be the best choice.”

Somehow Sakumo couldn’t picture Danzo Shimura agreeing that he was the best choice. He kept that to himself as he slowly shook his head. “Being a shinobi is all I know. I don’t know anything about being Hokage.”

“You’re already an excellent leader.”

“Of a squad. In the field. Not of a village!”

“You’re selling yourself short, Sakumo.” Hiruzen held up a hand before the silver-haired jonin could protest further. “And I am sorry but I’m not really giving you a choice in the matter. The Village Hidden in the Leaves _needs_ you in this seat.”

“This is a mistake…” Sakumo protested weakly, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew he had lost before he had ever stepped foot in this room. For Hiruzen to be telling him he had been selected to be the next Hokage rather than asking him to assume the title meant he would have already had to have been approved by the daimyo and Council. While the jonin hadn’t voted yet, there was little doubt that they would approve his appointment. Shikaku Nara was much too intelligent to have backed someone he felt wouldn’t have the support of the elite shinobi of the village.

“You’ll be fine. Now, about the preparations for your instatement –“

Sakumo only half-heard what the Hokage was saying. The very first thing he was going to do was find out who had put his name in for consideration so he could have their head examined because they were clearly insane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was never supposed to happen! Minato was supposed to take over as Fourth Hokage and everyone lives happily ever after. But no. Shikaku just *had* to go and hijack the plot and muck things up. I did say this was going to be cannon-divergent, so I guess it serves me right!
> 
> The conversation at the Council meeting was taken and/or inspired by Shippuden episode #349 "The Mask that Hides the Heart".


	24. Chapter 24

Kakashi was sitting up in a tree reading as usual when Sakumo returned home that evening. “Hi, Dad!” he called, spotting his father coming up the walkway to the house. He closed his book and jumped down to land lightly in front of Sakumo. He frowned at the somewhat distant look on his father’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Huh? Oh, nothing.” Sakumo’s tone was distracted.

Kakashi didn’t move, continuing to block the path. He glared up at his father. “You’re a terrible liar, Dad,” he stated. “I’m not some little kid anymore, you know.”

“I’m a shinobi, I’m an excellent liar. And you’re twelve. You most certainly are still a child,” Sakumo said as he stepped around his son and entered the house.

“I’ll be thirteen in three days,” Kakashi reminded him.

“Still a child!”

“Not according to the laws of the village.”

“According to the Laws of Your Father.”

Kakashi scowled but let it drop in favor of staying on the original topic. “Stop trying to change the subject. What’s wrong?” he asked again.

“Lord Hiruzen is stepping down as Hokage.”

Kakashi’s brow rose. “Really?”

“He feels that the Village could benefit from new leadership after the last War. That we need a stronger leader going forward, someone who can unify the village.”

Kakashi frowned slightly. “I guess that makes sense. I’ve heard talk and rumors around the village and people aren’t too happy right now. That doesn’t explain why _you_ look so glum, though.”

“Lord Hiruzen wants me to be the next Hokage.”

If he hadn’t been so uncertain Sakumo would have found the look of shock on Kakashi’s face humorous. Kakashi stared at him for a full minute, his mouth hanging open, convinced that his father had to be joking. He finally shook himself and shut his mouth. It still took him another moment to regain the ability to speak.

“You’re serious?” This didn’t seem like the type of thing his father would joke about.

“Unfortunately.”

The solution seemed ridiculously simple to Kakashi. “If you don’t want the job why didn’t you just say no? It’s not like they can force you to be Hokage,” he said pointedly.

Sakumo gave a humorless smile. “Wanna bet?” he asked ruefully. Hiruzen had made it clear that he was their choice. In other circumstances, Sakumo may have been able to refuse the position and someone else would be chosen to fill the role. But short of deserting the village, Sakumo had no choice in the matter. The Council had been divided on the choices presented and the daimyo was too weak-willed to make a ruling to break the stalemate. Sakumo had been the third option that everyone had agreed on; if somewhat reluctantly in Danzo’s case. Sakumo was well known, liked, and respected in the village. He was trusted. There was no one else currently capable of uniting the village at a time when unity was desperately needed. Sakumo didn’t think he was up to the task but the current Hokage and Council apparently felt differently. Sakumo didn’t want the role but since it was being thrust upon him anyway, he would do his utmost to uphold the ideals on which the Village Hidden in the Leaves had been founded and stood for.

“You’re going to be the Fourth Hokage…” Kakashi said slowly, trying to process what his father had told him. He had never considered the possibility that his father would one day lead the Leaf Village as Sakumo never expressed any desire to wear the Hokage’s hat. Jonin Commander he could have seen. But Hokage… He never would have seen that one coming.

“Don’t remind me.”

“When --?”

“Next week. Lord Third doesn’t want to waste any time.”

Kakashi couldn’t help himself as something that he knew his father would never have thought of occurred to him. He loved his father dearly but this was too much. A mischievous smile spread across his lips. “So, when are they carving your face into Hokage Rock?”

Sakumo buried his face in his hands.

* * *

“Wow, your dad’s going to be the new Hokage. I still can’t believe it!” Guy said, bouncing on his toes in excitement.

“Yeah…” Kakashi was still a bit shocked himself. He stood with Guy in the crowd awaiting the Third Hokage to officially hand his office over to the Fourth. As family to the incoming Hokage, he could have secured himself a spot right at the front of the crowd. Kakashi preferred to be where he currently was. Dad did _not_ want to be Hokage and Kakashi wasn’t certain he would be able to keep the smirk off his face when he officially took the hat. He didn’t relish the idea of being put on D-ranks for the entirety of his father’s tenure. Sakumo wasn’t a petty man but Kakashi was certain he’d find a way to justify it if he felt his son was laughing at his discomfiture.

He smirked behind his mask. His father had been in rare form that morning, fussing about the house, pacing nervously, grumbling to himself, and just generally irritable about the entire thing. Sakumo _despised_ politics. Kakashi had been giving some serious thought into getting his own place. Dad was going to be _impossible_ to live with so long as he was Hokage. He had flatly refused to move into the Hokage’s residence within Hokage Tower. He already had a home where he was quite comfortable, _thankyouverymuch_. Which meant Kakashi was going to be subjected to his sulking about day in and day out.

“Kakashi! Guy!”

Kakashi turned and saw Rin making her way towards them. “Hi, Rin,” he greeted. “How’s your medical training going?”

She beamed as she brushed her shoulder-length brown hair back out of her face. “It’s great! I’m learning so much! I’ve even been able to start assisting in minor surgeries. There’s so much I still need to learn but it’s all so interesting!”

After the Kannabi Bridge mission, Team Minato had disbanded. They all felt the loss of Obito keenly. Neither Kakashi nor Rin could picture their team with a different teammate taking his place. Minato hadn’t forced the issue, knowing his students needed time to grieve. He still had his own guilt to deal with. It had been his decision to split the team and he often thought it had been a mistake. He had wiped out a large force of enemy shinobi but he hadn’t been with is students to protect them. One had died and another had been maimed. He was no longer certain he was suited to be a jonin leader.

The Hokage hadn’t objected. The destruction of Kannabi Bridge and taking out such a large force of shinobi had been a huge blow to the Land of Earth. The Tsuchikage, upon learning that both the Yellow Flash and the White Fang were involved in that mission had pulled many of his remaining forces back to defend their own borders. It had weakened the Land of Earth in more ways than one. The weakening of the Hidden Stone had been enough to cause the Sand Village to withdraw from Fire Country. The Lands of Lightning and Water, also war-weary, had seized upon the chance to recall their own shinobi. It had been the beginning of the end of the Third Shinobi War.

Kakashi had been glad to hear of Rin’s choice to devote herself to studying medical ninjutsu full-time. He missed her as his teammate but she was much safer in the village than on the battlefield. “That’s great,” he said, genuinely happy for her. Rin had been the peace-maker of their team when he and Obito would butt heads. She was a kind and gentle girl who hated fighting yet who would fight fiercely to defend her friends. “I knew you’d make a great medical ninja. You’ve always had the best chakra control of all of us. Your field medical ninjutsu was good, too.” It had been thanks to Rin that he had been able to receive Obito’s Sharingan. The transplant procedure was not difficult but it did require a degree of chakra control that was usually only achieved after years of medical training. Had it been performed by another field-medic he would have had a much longer recovery period.

Rin flushed slightly at his praise. She’d had a crush on Kakashi since their early days at the Academy. She had been delighted and worried when she had learned she would be on the same team and him and Obito. Kakashi had been leagues ahead of all of their peers, even at a young age. Obito had been her best friend practically since they could walk. Even though he was often tardy and clumsy, he worked constantly to improve. Once he and Kakashi had become friends his skills had improved by leaps and bounds with his new friend to train with him and offer advice. She knew she was not as skilled as her teammates. She had often felt that her medical ninjutsu was her only real contribution to the team. While certainly valuable, she hated feeling as though the others were constantly protecting her because she couldn’t protect herself. She knew some offensive ninjutsu and was competent enough with a kunai but she would never be in the same league as her teammates.

She had known that Obito had loved her for a long time. While she loved him, it was as a cherished friend and not romantically. After their final mission together, she had gotten the courage to tell Kakashi how she felt about him. He had told her kindly that he simply didn’t share her feelings. She had feared that her confession would lead to him avoiding her or for things to become uncomfortable and awkward between them. He treated her the same as he always had. She had been hurt that he didn’t reciprocate her feelings and had shed some tears over it. But she was glad that their friendship was largely unaffected.

She had heard his final promise to Obito to always protect her. She didn’t want protecting. She knew that Kakashi would do everything in is power to keep his promise. Even if he didn’t return her feelings, she still loved him and she couldn’t bear the thought of him – or anyone – dying for her. Studying to become a full-fledged medical ninja seemed the best way to be both useful and keep herself out of danger. She had to admit that she was greatly enjoying her time spent in the hospital, apprenticing to the doctors there. She may never be on the same level as Lady Tsunade but she had found a place where she could shine, too.

She turned the conversation to more immediate matters. “You should be up front with Asuma,” she scolded. “This is a big day for your father!”

“Tell him that,” Kakashi replied. “I think I overheard him muttering something about wondering if there were any openings in the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Hidden Mist before he left the house this morning.”

Rin was scandalized. She knew full well that Kakashi’s father was the famous White Fang. His loyalty to the village was undisputed. “That’s not funny, Kakashi! Becoming Hokage is a huge responsibility and I’m sure he’d like to see you being supportive.”

“I _am_ being supportive. Dad doesn’t need me to make a big production out of it. He knows I’m here. That’s enough.”

She frowned at him. Guy placed a hand on her arm and shook his head, silently telling her to let it go. If there was one thing Guy had learned over his years of friendship with Kakashi it was that he had his own unique way of expressing his emotions, especially softer ones that left him vulnerable. Despite his quiet nature, Guy knew his friend was no less passionate than he himself. Kakashi didn’t express it in such a loud and exuberant manner but it was there for those who knew how to look. Sakumo may have been much more open with his feelings but he knew his son. He would know to look for him here, mingled with the crowd, rather than at the front. Kakashi was right, it was enough.

* * *

“Nice outfit,” Kakashi said as they returned home, not bothering to hide his mirth. He had admired and idolized his father since before he could walk but seeing him dressed in the traditional red and white Hokage robes rather than his usual shinobi uniform was a sight he would never forget. Sakumo tossed his son a dark look as he pulled the ridiculously wide-brimmed hat from his head. He ran his hand through his hair, making it stand back up in its usual unruly spikes from where it had been flattened by the hat. He grumbled irritably as his bangs fell into his eyes without his headband to keep them back.

“Shut up. Or I’ll make certain you’re the next one to wear it.”

“No can do! Nepotism and all that!”

“You do remember your history lessons, don’t you? Lord Second was Lord First’s _brother._ Lord Hiruzen was their student. The Hokage’s chair is steeped in nepotism!”

“You’re better than that,” Kakashi deadpanned.

Sakumo glowered. “Don’t bet on it,” he growled. “In the meantime, you can run D-ranks. As a jonin instructor.”

Kakashi blanched at the thought of being in charge of a genin team. The genin would likely be as old as he was if not older. Images of a horrible babysitting mission-gone-wrong from when he had first graduated the Academy flashed through his mind. “On second thought,” he backpedaled, “Lord Third made a terrible decision. You should be the last person to ever hold the Hokage’s position. The entire village should be up in arms and threatening revolt at the very notion of it!”

“I always knew you were a smart boy.”

Kakashi revisited the idea of finding his own apartment. Dad as Hokage was going to be an absolute nightmare. 

* * *

“Minato-sensei!” Kakashi said, surprised to find his former jonin-leader at his front door a few days later. “What are you doing here?” He flushed as he realized he had come off as rather rude. Minato smiled brightly at his former student.

“Hello, Kakashi. Your father asked me to come. Is he –? “

“Let the man in, Kakashi,” Sakumo said as he appeared behind his son. “Aren’t you late for training?” he asked pointedly.

“If you wanted to have a private conversation, you could’ve just said so,” Kakashi muttered sulkily as he slunk out the door. Sakumo was certain that if being Hokage didn’t drive him mad, Kakashi’s teen years would. For a child who had never wanted to be like other children he had seemingly fully embraced ‘brooding teenager’. While glad that his son was acting like a normal kid his age, Sakumo did wish that Kakashi would have chosen a less trying behavior to imitate.

“Come on in,” Sakumo said, waving Minato inside as Kakashi disappeared down the road. “Don’t mind my son. Apparently now that he’s thirteen he’s decided to try ‘sulky brat’ on for size.” His tone was fond and only slightly exasperated.

Minato smiled. Having been his jonin leader for several years, he was used to Kakashi’s blunt and often undiplomatic way of speaking and was knew the boy wasn’t trying to be offensive. If he was trying to offend you, he’d make certain you knew it. “He’s a normal teenager. Weren’t we all, once.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sakumo said.

Minato couldn’t help but look around as he followed Sakumo to the kitchen. He had seen the outside of the house before, having walked Kakashi home when he had first been placed on his team but he’d never been inside. It was neat and orderly, something he’d expect of both father and son. There were not many ornaments or decorations displayed yet there was still a cozy and welcoming feel to the small house. It was a home that had sheltered generations of the family and would continue to do so in the years to come. Minato himself lived in a more modern apartment on a bustling street. He enjoyed being in the middle of things, of being able to step out his door and be only moments away from his favorite shops and restaurants. Though he couldn’t deny there was a certain appeal to this quiet home.

Sakumo motioned for him to take a seat at the table as he went to check on the kettle on the stove. “Tea?” he inquired.

“Yes, please,” Minato managed. Seeing Sakumo performing such a _normal_ activity was throwing him a bit. Minato mentally scolded himself as Sakumo finished setting the tea things out and poured a large mug for each of them. He was a high-level shinobi but he still needed to eat and drink just like everyone else. He had become more comfortable around Sakumo in the years since first becoming Kakashi’s jonin-leader but old habits died hard.

“I’m going to get right to the point,” Sakumo stated as he took the seat across from Minato. “I didn’t ask to become Hokage. I’ve never had any ambition towards the Hokage’s seat and I certainly didn’t want it.” He met Minato’s blue-eyed gaze. “From what I am told, Lord Hiruzen wanted you to succeed him.”

“Really?” Minato blurted in surprise. He had aspired to become Hokage someday but had never imagined being considered for the position so soon.

“Hm. Danzo wasn’t having it, though. He wanted Orochimaru. And the Council was split on your age – some felt you were too young.”

“I see.”

Sakumo took a sip of his tea. “From what I understand, things got quite heated.”

“Then how did --?” Minato’s curiosity got the better of him.

“I end up here instead?” Sakumo snorted. “Shikaku Nara, damn the man!”

Minato’s lips twitched. He doubted he was completely successful in keeping the amused smile completely off his face. The new Jonin Commander was absolutely brilliant, as much of a genius as Sakumo or Orochimaru. He had proposed a candidate that there couldn’t be any objection to. Sakumo was powerful, intelligent, and renown, all qualities needed in a Hokage. That he was personable, well-liked, and respected even outside the Hidden Leaf was a bonus. He was older than Minato but certainly not ‘old’ by any stretch of the imagination. His protests about not wanting the position aside, he really _was_ nearly perfect for the position.

Sakumo gave him a dark look, not having missed his mirth. Why did everyone seem to find this entire thing so damn funny anyway? It was utterly ridiculous, not amusing. He wasn’t cut out to lead the village. He didn’t _want_ to be here. He wanted to be at the missions desk collecting his next assignment. To his credit, Minato did his best to smother his amusement and rearrange his features into a more serious expression.

“I don’t intend to hold this position any longer than absolutely necessary,” Sakumo continued. “Hopefully, no more than a few years. Just long enough to try to establish a lasting peace between the Nations and let tensions in the Village settle.” His dark gaze turned piercing. “Lord Third felt you’d make a good Hokage. I don’t disagree. With some experience, the Council can’t possibly object when I name you as my successor. Therefore, I’d like you to be one of my advisors.”

Minato was speechless. Sakumo watched him as he worked through and processed what he had just been told and offered. “Me? But – “

“But what? You’ve shown that you’re a capable shinobi. You’re smart. You were able to get through to Kakashi, which is no mean feat. I’m terrible at politicking and negotiations. They seem to be right up your alley, though.”

Minato didn’t believe that for a second. He knew Sakumo was more than capable of being diplomatic when he needed to. “Surely there are better candidates, people more suited --”

“Like who? Old men and women who wish things to continue as they always have? Lord Hiruzen stepped down because he wanted change to come to the Hidden Leaf. Change means new ideas. I’m sure you have more than a few.”

“Well, yes. But --“

“I also need someone who I can trust to give me straight, honest answers. I don’t want advisors who are going to tell me what they think I want to hear. I want people who will tell me what they really think. I cannot lead this village if I don’t know what the people – both shinobi and civilian – need and want. I don’t have an agenda other than to see a village at peace and I’d prefer my advisors to be the same.” He swirled the liquid in his cup around for a moment before continuing. “Look, this works out for both of us. I get someone who can smile and make nice through negotiations. You get some much-needed first-hand experience with the running of the village. I can step down, you can take over, everybody’s happy.”

Minato took a long sip of his tea. Sakumo waited patiently while he lowered the mug and stared into it, thinking things over.

“I’m honored,” Minato finally said sincerely.

“That’s a yes, right?” Sakumo ran a hand absently through his unruly hair. “I told you I was no good at this. Why can’t anyone just say what they mean?”

“It’s a yes,” Minato agreed.

Sakumo looked relieved. “Good. You can start tomorrow morning. The sooner the Hidden Leaf recovers, the sooner I can retire!”


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up. Things have been super busy plus we just got a new puppy. Fun times.

Sakumo stood glaring at the red and white robes that hung in his closet. He had never held any aspirations towards the Hokage’s seat and he certainly didn’t like the trappings of his new position. Even after several weeks he found the robes awkward and uncomfortable and there was no way he could possibly fight in them without getting hopelessly tangled. He supposed he could wear them over his standard gear but then he’d be hot and sweaty and even more miserable.

“Hell with this!” he muttered, bypassing the robes and reaching for his regular clothing. If anyone didn’t like it, they could remove him from being Hokage as far as he was concerned. He’d do the job because Hiruzen had asked and because his village needed him; damn Hiruzen for knowing just how to play on his sense of duty and honor anyway. He wasn’t going to make himself even more uncomfortable just for appearances. He was well aware that appearances could be important. Here in the village he was already well-known. His silver hair alone was not exactly common, the exact shade being unique to the Hatake Clan. He could save the formal get-up for when he needed it. Hopefully never.

Comfortably dressed in the familiar uniform of a jonin of the Hidden Leaf, Sakumo brushed out his still-damp hair, tying it back into its customary pony-tail. He’d fight anyone who even thought to mention cutting it off. He’d worn it long since he could remember and his late wife had loved it. He picked up his flak jacket with its short red-tipped white sleeve. He may be the Hokage but he was still the White Fang. He tied his headband firmly around his head and finally recognized himself in the mirror again.

“Forget to pick up the dry cleaning?” Kakashi asked dryly as Sakumo walked into the kitchen. “I’m sure one of your new bodyguards would be willing to fetch it for you.”

“Don’t you have better things to do than pick on your father?” Sakumo groused. He glanced out the window at the ANBU who were perched in nearby trees, keeping watch. He had told them in no uncertain terms that they were not going to loiter around inside his house. He didn’t want or need bodyguards. His rise to the Hokage’s seat hadn’t suddenly rendered him incompetent.

“Not at the moment.”

_Cheeky brat!_ Sakumo thought fondly as Kakashi looked up at him, grinning. The dark mask was pushed down around his neck as he ate. Sakumo was pleased to see his son smile. It had been too infrequently recently, even for someone as serious as Kakashi. Kakashi had never experienced the loss of someone close to him before Obito. The death of his teammate and friend had hit him hard. Even more so because Obito had died saving Kakashi’s life, then gifting him with his newly-awakened Sharingan to replace the eye he had lost. Kakashi had been the captain of their team for the mission and he had replayed the mission over and over again in his mind, wondering what he could have done differently, not yet fully accepting that there hadn’t been anything more he could have done. That it had been his first mission as a jonin and as captain had made it all the more difficult for him to accept that he wasn’t somehow to blame.

It had been months since the Kannabi Bridge mission but it would take time, Sakumo knew, to heal the wound in his son’s heart. Sakumo knew from experience that the pain of losing a loved one never truly healed completely. At best, the wound would scar over, leaving the loss tolerable if not painless. Sakumo still felt the pain of loss of friends and comrades and family that he had lost over the years. Over a decade since her death and he still missed his wife with searing intensity. 

“I thought shinobi were supposed to respect the Hokage,” Sakumo muttered.

Kakashi’s expression turned serious. “I hold the Hokage’s position in the highest regard,” he said as if insulted that his father would doubt him. “Which is why I told the stone carver you’d have time for him to take some measurements this weekend.”

“Stone carver?” Sakumo asked blankly. “Measurements?”

“Yeah. You know, for Hokage Rock?”

Sakumo’s eye twitched.

Kakashi took another bite of his meal, practically radiating innocence.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Sakumo hated politics. He understood they were a necessary part of running a village. That didn’t mean he liked them. Being a shinobi was simple. You had your mission, you carried it out to the best of your abilities, rinse, repeat. Being Hokage was so far out of his realm of experience that he was certain he’d go mad from it. And he wasn’t even a month in. It was a good thing his hair was already silver, he thought darkly, because it certainly would have been after his tenure.

He was currently sitting around a small table in a side meeting room with the three members of the Leaf Council, Danzo Shimura, Homura Mitokado, and Koharu Utatane. He had asked Shikaku Nara to join them. He had intentionally told Minato not to attend. He had discussed the situation with his advisor and the other man agreed with him that this needed to be done. However, Sakumo wanted to insulate Minato from the potential fallout in this instance. If Minato was to succeed him, he couldn’t be seen as embroiled in decisions that were unpopular to the Council. Shikaku was also aware of what he was about to do and agreed with the decision. Sakumo welcomed his support. He doubted what he was about to do was going to be well received. Moral support aside, the Jonin Commander would have his own role in what Sakumo was about to propose.

“How are you settling into your new position, Sakumo?” Homura asked. He glanced sidelong at Sakumo, frowning slightly at his casual clothing.

“Well enough,” Sakumo replied, ignoring the side-eye he was getting from the Elder and inwardly chaffing at the forced pleasantries. He was well aware of Danzo’s veiled glare. He knew that Danzo had put forth Orochimaru’s name for the Hokage’s position but had been overruled in the end. Sakumo regretfully wished he could say he was surprised that Orochimaru hadn’t been a popular choice for the job. He’d known Orochimaru for years; they’d grown up together. Orochimaru had always been rather antisocial to all but a select few but recently he’d become even more distant. Sakumo had spoken to him even less the Jiraiya over the past few years and Jiraiya was hardly in the village while Orochimaru hardly left. When Sakumo did see him, there was a sense of darkness around him that Sakumo couldn’t pinpoint the source of. It made him uneasy and he always trusted his instincts. He pushed thoughts of Orochimaru from his mind for now. Danzo was about to be a lot more unhappy with him in a few moments.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet on such short notice,” Sakumo said, cutting right to the chase. He saw no need to sit through more forced pleasantries and polite small talk. He had a job to do, even if he hadn’t wanted it. There was a pile of paperwork on his desk that seemed to grow every time he turned his back. If he was away from his desk for too long, he wouldn’t be able to find it again beneath the scrolls and papers. He had spent all morning working his way through it and it seemed he had hardly made a dent. He was half-convinced that it was some sort of evil conspiracy to drive him completely mad. Maybe not, but it made him feel better than to believe that he was just inept at doing paperwork.

“That is what the Council if for,” Koharu interjected. “To advise and aid the Hokage and the running of the Village. Though it is unusual for the Jonin Commander to be present.”

“I value his input and there are matters in which he is will be aiding,” Sakumo stated, making it clear the matter was not open for debate. “As to why I’ve asked you here; Lord Hiruzen stepped down from his position because he felt the Leaf Village needed to move in a new direction. After seeing how things are done these past few weeks and some careful consideration, I agree. Things in the Hidden Leaf cannot continue as they are.”

“What exactly are you getting at?” Danzo demanded. He was displeased with the choice for the Fourth Hokage. He had known Orochimaru would be a hard sell but he’d hoped that his fame and intelligence would work in his favor. The Fire Daimyo was weak-willed and should have been impressed by having one of the legendary Sannin dangled in front of him. Even if the hat had gone to Namikaze, Danzo could have worked with that. Minato was young and idealistic. Danzo was certain he’d have been able to eventually manipulate the young man into doing his bidding. If there was one thing Danzo was good at, it was manipulating people into doing what he wanted while making it seem like it was their own idea all along. Sakumo would be much more difficult to influence. His natural genius coupled with his sense of honor and duty to the village meant he was a very formidable opponent. He may understand the necessity of dirty deeds but he would not condone many of the more morally questionable operations that Danzo handled should he ever find out about them.

Sakumo turned his gaze to Danzo, meeting his glare steadily. Sakumo was not at all intimidated by the other man, something Danzo wasn’t used to. He didn’t like it. “Simply this: There currently exist two sources of power in the Hidden Leaf. The Hokage’s office and Lord Danzo’s Foundation. Most of our citizens do not even know of the existence of the latter. Most shinobi do not even know of it. Yet it wields considerable influence over the Hidden Leaf Village and our affairs. Even extending, in some cases, to our dealings with the other Hidden Villages and lands. This cannot be allowed to continue.”

Silence met this proclamation as those assembled digested his words and the intent behind them. As he suspected, they were less than pleased when they began to realize what he was saying.

“This is how it has always been. The Hokage working in the front, someone working in the dark, carrying out those duties that the Hokage cannot,” Koharu stated as if that settled the matter. “The formation of the Foundation was approved by the Third Hokage.”

Sakumo shook his head. “Just because that is how it has always been does not make it right. It may have helped Lord Hiruzen sleep at night but I will not have Danzo’s Foundation shinobi conducting black-op missions that I know nothing about, ‘for the good of the village’.” His tone told everyone present exactly what he thought of the last phrase. He didn’t buy it for a second. Sakumo was not naive. He might not like it but he understood full well that sometimes unpleasant and even illegal tasks may be a necessity for the greater good. He knew enough of Danzo’s reputation, however, to not be entirely convinced the greater good was his main focus. The man was ambitious, of that there was no doubt. Sakumo was certain he only did what was good for the village so long as it was also good for him as well. He did not want to wait around to see what would happen when those goals no longer aligned.

“You do not have the authority –!” Danzo nearly shouted, half-rising from his chair.

One silver eyebrow raised in silent challenge, abruptly halting Danzo’s tirade. Danzo remained half-standing, glaring at Sakumo. Sakumo remained seated, his expression blank, silently waiting. No one dared do more than breathe as they watched the silent power play taking place before them. Their gazes locked and held for a handful of heartbeats before Danzo slowly sank back into his seat, his expression filled with hate. He was not in a position to challenge Sakumo here.

“I have every bit of authority,” Sakumo said softly, his voice full of menace made all the more frightening for its calm. Where Danzo was loud in his rage, Sakumo was quiet. “I am the Hokage. My word is law. As of this moment, the Foundation is no more. It is to be dissolved and disbanded immediately. All personnel will be reassigned to positions fitting their skills, whether that be in the ranks of my own ANBU, the regular forces, or elsewhere. As Jonin Commander, Shikaku Nara will be in charge of overseeing the reintegration process to ensure it goes smoothly.” He glanced at the other man, who nodded in understanding and agreement. Shikaku had no love for Danzo and even less for the things the Foundation was rumored to have carried out.

“You can’t do this!” Danzo hissed.

“It is already done,” Sakumo stated with finality. “We’re finished here,” he said as he stood. The others rose as well as he walked out.

Once out of the stifling confines of the Council room, Sakumo inhaled deeply. He had no illusions that Danzo was going to take his decision laying down. He just hoped he wasn’t making a mistake. Danzo wielded considerable influence and was not a man to cross lightly.

“For what it’s worth, you’re doing the right thing,” Shikaku’s voice said at his shoulder. They began walking towards Sakumo’s office. He closed the door as they entered the spacious room. The walls of the village had ears but the Hokage’s office was secure. “Danzo’s had too much leeway in running his own ANBU for far too long.”

Sakumo let out a mirthless chuckle as he dropped heavily into his chair behind the desk. “I doubt I’ve heard the last of this.”

“Maybe not. But what can he do? The Hokage gave an order. He’d be a fool not to obey.”

“Yeah, maybe. I don’t trust Danzo. He’s too shrewd to let go of so much power so easily.”

“You think he’s going to make a move against you?”

Sakumo shook his head. “Danzo’s ambitious but he’s not stupid. An attack against the Hokage directly would only serve to weaken his position. No, he’ll be much more subtle. He’s more likely to try to stir up dissent or undermine me some other way.”

“Well, I don’t envy you trying to figure it out. You should make certain to keep the ANBU on alert.”

“I _can_ take care of myself, you know.” Why did everyone seem to think he had suddenly forgotten how to fight? Maybe he should start carrying his chakra blade around to remind them.

“Maybe so. But you said it yourself, Danzo is ambitious. I wouldn’t put it past him to have someone try to stick a knife between your ribs. Just be careful and watch your back. I know you never wanted to be Hokage, Sakumo, but this village needs you right now. If anything were to happen to you, Danzo would have another opportunity to make a grab for power. I don’t relish the thought of going to war yet again.”

“Me neither. I’ll be careful.”

Shikaku frowned. “Danzo stands to lose a lot of power in the Village with his organization gone. He doesn’t need to assassinate you to weaken you. As your son, Kakashi is entitled to an ANBU guard as well.”

Sakumo stiffened at the unspoken implications. Shikaku was right. If anything should happen to Kakashi, especially because of his position, it would destroy him. Danzo was a dangerous man. It would be foolish to underestimate him. If he couldn’t get to Sakumo directly, he would have no compunction about harming Kakashi in order to do so.

“Kakashi is a capable jonin,” Shikaku added. Sakumo’s reaction to his words hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Targeting him will not earn Danzo any favor within the Village. The ANBU would just be an added precaution for now.”

“You’re right, of course,” Sakumo said. He managed a weak smile. “He’ll hate it and try to slip away as often as possible. It’ll be good practice for them.” The smile fell from his face. “I can’t believe Lord Hiruzen allowed Danzo so much leeway. What was he thinking?”

Shikaku gave a small shrug. “You’d have to ask Lord Third,” he replied diplomatically. He had his own theories and was certain Sakumo did as well. They did not paint a flattering picture. Both men had great respect for the Third Hokage and neither was willing to voice their speculations on this matter out loud.

“Right,” Sakumo said. “At any rate, you’re going to have your hands full with reassigning and reintegrating Danzo’s Foundation people. Let me know if you need additional resources. We’re stretched a bit thin at the moment but I’ll assign whomever we can spare. Keep me apprised of any problems.”

“Of course, Lord Fourth.” Shikaku pretended not to notice Sakumo’s wince at the title. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go and coordinate with Inoichi over at the Intel Division. There are rumors that some of Danzo’s people may have questionable backgrounds.”

Sakumo nodded, dismissing him. He rubbed one hand over his eyes as the door closed behind Shikaku. He knew there would be repercussions, even if disbanding Danzo’s personal ANBU was in the best interest of the village. A shadow organization with no oversight was not in the village’s best interest, no matter that it had the Hokage’s approval wen it had been formed. Sakumo half-dreaded what they would uncover about the Foundation’s activities once they began digging. He decided not to borrow trouble by worrying about that until they got to that point.

There came a knock, then the door was pushed open. “I take it your disbanding of Danzo’s Foundation was not well received,” Minato said as he walked into Sakumo’s office. Sakumo was slumped in his chair behind the desk with his head tilted back, starting at the ceiling and pointedly ignoring the piles of paperwork that were beginning to take over his desk.

“It went about as well as expected,” Sakumo replied.

“That bad, huh?”

“Well, we didn’t expect Danzo to be happy about it. The Elders weren’t too keen, either.” Sakumo straightened and rubbed his hands over his face. He dropped his hands and looked up at Minato. “I’m assigning an ANBU guard for you and Kushina for the time being.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” Minato asked suspiciously.

Sakumo shook his head. “Nothing. It was Shikaku’s idea, actually. He reminded me that Kakashi is entitled to one and I’m extending that to you and Kushina as well. It’s simply a precaution. Danzo is not someone to cross lightly. He’s ambitious and I cannot imagine he’ll let go of so much power without a fight. Men who become accustomed to wielding such power don’t relinquish it easily.”

“That’s why you didn’t want me to attend that meeting.”

“I wanted to insulate you from this, yes. I knew it would be an unpopular move, at least as far as internal village politics are concerned. Besides, there was no need for you to face Danzo’s ire along with me.”

“Do you think he’s going to disregard your orders?”

“Not openly. I don’t doubt that he’s got some sort of back-up plan in place. He stands to lose too much to not have planned for something like this.” Sakumo sighed and dropped his head into his hands. He could feel a headache coming on. “I hate this job.”

“You could delegate some of this paperwork, you know, Minato commented.

“I’ve _been_ delegating it. Every time I do, three times as much takes its place. Kakashi is going to have grandchildren by the time I get through it all. How Lord Third ever left this office is beyond me.”

Minato scanned a pile of scrolls. He picked them up. “I’ll take care of these. Why don’t you take a break, clear your head, come back refreshed.”

Sakumo narrowed his eyes at him. He didn’t like the feeling he was being handled. Minato’s expression was earnest and his gaze was guileless. Sakumo realized that he wasn’t trying to handle him but was genuinely concerned. He should have expected it; he’d seen the care Minato had for Kakashi and his other students. Minato was going to make a great Hokage in a few years, he thought. Even if he was a bit of a mother hen. Or perhaps because of it. And it had been weeks since he’d had a good workout.

“Suit yourself,” Sakumo said, getting to his feet. “I’ll be back in an hour or two. I’ll be at Training Ground Five if you need me.” That training field happened to be conveniently designed specifically for kenjutsu training. He had missed the feeling of his tanto in his hand recently. He grinned. He was going to enjoy this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, we haven't heard the last of Danzo. And since a few people have asked - the Sannin will show up again, I promise.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter took forever to get up. It's been a rough few weeks and I had to step back from writing for a bit. I'm back to plugging away, though the next few chapters may be delayed a bit with the holidays coming up.
> 
> I'm also in the middle of some massive rewrites as I'm ending up with a lot of stuff happening in the next few chapters that I didn't initially anticipate. So I'm trying to make sure everything gets included and makes sense along the way. And not leave anything hanging. That's part of what took me so long on this chapter. Remember the Land of Rivers mission a few chapters back? Yeah, that was supposed to set up something that now isn't going to happen. Oops. But I needed to do something to resolve things with Dai at least. 
> 
> Ah well, enjoy!

“The Village Hidden in the Valley sends their regards and congratulations,” Minato said, handing a rolled scroll to Sakumo.

“From Lord Ejiri, huh? Word travels fast.”

“What do you expect? Change in leadership of one of the Hidden Villages can mean a change in the balance of power between nations. It’s prudent to know the politics of the other Kage and to feel out potential allies. Or adversaries.”

Sakumo grumbled something derogatory about politics under his breath as he took the scroll and skimmed it. Minato pretended not to hear. The parchment contained the usual congratulations on his appointment to the Hokage’s position as well as expressing the desire for continued good relations between the Land of Rivers and the Land of Fire. Sakumo dropped the scroll on top of the papers he had been working on and leaned back in his chair.

“Should I draft a response?”

“Yeah,” Sakumo rerolled the scroll and handed it back to Minato. “Before you do that, I want you to check on something for me. There should have been several Hidden Leaf shinobi assigned to the Hidden Valley almost a year ago. Make certain someone actually went.”

“What would our shinobi be doing there?” Minato asked.

“Training their people.”

“Really?” Minato asked. He knew the Hidden Villages guarded their techniques jealously. It seemed odd that the Hidden Leaf would have sent shinobi to train those of another country.

“Uh huh. I was the one who had to negotiate that little provision so I didn’t wind up staying there myself. I want to be sure that we honored our end of the agreement.”

“You? What happened?”

“Not much. Lord Third asked me to deliver a treaty to the Land of Rivers during the last war. They’re situated between the Land of Fire and the Land of Wind. Having them as our ally meant we could move some of our forces to another front. There were the usual terms – mutual aid and cooperation and whatever. The Hidden Valley agreed on the condition that I remain to train their shinobi.”

“Name recognition,” Minato realized. “They wanted the prestige of having their shinobi trained by the White Fang?”

“Something like that.” Sakumo rolled his eyes. “I don’t know where they got the fool idea that I’d be a good candidate to train their people. I’m a terrible teacher.”

“They just accepted that?”

“It may have taken a bit more persuasion but that’s the general gist. I did agree to have the Hidden Leaf send shinobi who were qualified.”

Minato smiled as he pictured that. He knew that despite his dislike of politics, Sakumo was quite capable of being diplomatic when the situation called for it. He also knew that his refusal to remain in the Hidden Valley wasn’t due to pride or feeling that remaining would be beneath him but rather the knowledge that he would not be suited for the task. His humility was part of what made him so popular, Minato thought. And a good Hokage. Sakumo wanted what was best for his village and her people, not himself.

“I’ll write something up and have it back for your signature before lunch,” Minato said.

“That’ll be fine.”

As Minato left his office, Sakumo dug through the piles of paperwork that covered his desk, searching for a specific file. The reminder of his mission to the Land of Rivers had reminded him that there was something else he needed to take care of.

* * *

Dai was uncharacteristically subdued as he walked towards the Hokage’s office, a feeling of unease worming its way into his stomach. His last mission a few days ago had started out fine but had then gone to hell spectacularly. He’d been escorting a noblewoman on her shopping trip, tagging along to carry her purchases. It hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary. She had shopped and shopped, the pile of packages in his arms getting higher with each stop until he couldn’t see a thing. He had continued to cheerfully follow along as best he could under the unsteady mound until his foot had caught in an uneven patch of ground and he’d gone sprawling, the noblewoman’s shopping flying everywhere. He had begun gathering the fallen packages, spouting apologies all the while as she shrieked loud enough to make his ears ring. He’d felt terrible.

He knew the chunin in charge of the genin assignments wanted him removed as a shinobi of the Hidden Leaf. Lord Third had been sympathetic and not stripped him of his rank as he had feared. Now there was a new Hokage. He had met Sakumo Hatake once and had carried out an A-ranked mission with him. It had been the pride of his career to have stood side by side with the White Fang. Sakumo had been kind and had treated Dai as a comrade rather than a joke or a burden. But at the time Sakumo had simply been a jonin of the Hidden Leaf, not the Hokage.

Dai knocked hesitantly on the door and slowly pushed it open upon hearing the invitation to enter. His gaze was drawn to the figure standing by the large windows, gazing out over the village.

He looked exactly as Dai remembered him, dressed in his shinobi gear rather than the Hokage’s robes, the silver pony-tail hanging to his shoulder-blades. His hands were clasped behind his back and his posture was relaxed, radiating quiet confidence.

“You – you summoned me Lord Hokage?” Dai said, swallowing hard.

Sakumo turned away from the windows and moved towards his desk. “Yes, Dai. I wanted to speak to you about your assignment.”

Dai felt his heart sink. “I can explain – “

“I’ve already had words with the chunin in charge of assigning your missions,” Sakumo stated.

“I see,” Dai replied softly. He wondered how he was going to tell Guy that he was finished as a ninja. He was so proud of his son, who was already a chunin. He was convinced that Guy would become a great jonin one day and would make the village proud. He had always known that Guy would surpass him and had been pleased by the knowledge that his son would be a shinobi worthy of respect. Even knowing he was passing his father Guy had still always looked up to him. He didn’t want to see Guy’s disappointment in him.

“I reminded him of the importance of selecting appropriate personnel when staffing missions. He seemed to have forgotten. Being short-handed is not an excuse to only send a single man on a job that requires a team.”

Dai raised his gaze, confused. He had thought Sakumo was going to chew him out before kicking him out. Seeing Dai’s consternation, Sakumo’s expression softened. “I doubt very much that the shopping habits of the spoiled rotten have changed much since my genin days,” Sakumo said. “Too much money spent on more things than they could possibly ever use. I used to hate those assignments. There was nothing worse than relaying a bunch of shopping with your team all day. A team,” he repeated. “You use a team so that you not only have enough arms to carry everything but so that you can take turns running stuff to wherever they’re staying. There’s no way a single person can keep up.”

“Oh.” Dai didn’t know what to say to that.

“The reason I asked you here was not to discuss your last assignment. I want to offer you another position, if you’re interested.”

“Another position?” Dai wondered.

“Yes. How would you like to teach taijutsu at the Academy?”

“I –” Dai was at a loss for words. “Me?” he finally managed. “At the Academy?”

Sakumo nodded. “This last war has left the Leaf Village woefully understaffed. Finding qualified instructors is difficult at best right now. I’ve already spoken with the Academy principal. They could use a taijutsu specialist for the younger students. It would also entail teaching a couple of first-year classes as well. Basics such as Village history and the Shinobi Rules of Conduct, things like that.”

“I don’t know…” Dai longed to say yes and jump at the chance. He had no doubt that Sakumo had arranged this opportunity for him. Other than the Third Hokage, Guy, and Kakashi, Sakumo was the only shinobi in the village who didn’t look down on him. Dai respected Sakumo greatly. He couldn’t stand the thought of bungling this assignment and disappointing him, too.

“Come with me,” Sakumo said, getting to his feet. Dai followed wordlessly as the Hokage led the way from his office. It was a short walk to the Leaf Ninja Academy as it was adjacent to Hokage Tower. Sakumo entered a yard where a class of young students stood listening to their instructor explain the rules of taijutsu sparring. The Academy principal stood nearby. Upon catching sight of the pair, he walked over to them.

“Lord Fourth,” he greeted. His gaze turned to Dai. “And you’re Might Dai, I assume. I remember Guy well. He was a very determined child. I hear he is a chunin now.”

Dai beamed with pride. “Yes. He is a splendid shinobi. I have no doubt he will become a great jonin someday soon.”

The other man nodded politely. “Since you are here, you have decided to take the position?”

Dai hesitated. “I’m not sure…”

Sakumo caught the eye of the instructor and waved him over. Recognizing Sakumo as the Hokage, the other man hastily made his way to them while the children looked at the newcomers curiously. “Lord Hokage!” he said, looking slightly apprehensive.

“Can we drop the ‘lord’ stuff?” Sakumo muttered. “My given name’s served me well enough my entire life, you know.” He sighed at the scandalized looks he received. “Never mind. Might we intrude on your class for a bit? I’d like Dai here to get a feel for instructing Academy students in taijutsu.”

“Of course!” The instructor motioned for Dai to accompany him as he walked back to where the students were patiently waiting. He introduced Dai to them, explaining that he was going to assist in that day’s lesson.

Sakumo tucked his hands into his pockets as he watched the first pair of students face off. Several pairs sparred, putting the basics they were learning to the test. Two students – a boy and a girl - were facing one another. The girl was clearly hesitant, her posture hunched as if she was trying to hide. The boy came at her aggressively, sensing a weak opponent. She went stumbling back, falling to the ground. She remained on her hands and knees as the instructor called for them to break. Her head was bowed, her hair falling in front of her face and her shoulders shook.

“Come on, Ume, get up,” the instructor said, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

Ume got to her feet, wiping a hand across her eyes as she did so. She positioned herself at the rear of the assembled students, trying to remain unnoticed.

“Are you hurt?” Dai asked her softly.

“No.”

“Then why are you crying?”

Ume sniffled. “I hate taijutsu. I always lose.”

“Did you try your best?”

She gave a half-hearted shrug.

“Ah! That is your problem! You must embrace your youth and give it your all!”

Ume stared up at Dai dubiously. “But the other kids are all stronger,” she protested. “I’ll just lose anyway.”

“True strength is not about defeating someone who is strong,” Dai said.

“It’s not? Then what is it?”

“It is about protecting that which is most precious to you.”

“What’s precious to me?”

Dai nodded.

“I don’t understand.”

“Ahhh,” Dai said knowingly. “Protecting that which is most precious to you – that you would be willing to die to defend - is what gives you strength.”

“It is?”

Dai nodded as Ume pondered his words. A few minutes later he name was called for another round. Ume faced her opponent, her shoulders hunched. She glanced over at Dai, who gave her a broad, toothy grin and a thumbs up. She squared her shoulders as she assumed a fighting stance, her jaw clenched with determination. She stumbled as she blocked a kick but she remained standing. She lunged suddenly, managing a glancing blow to her opponent’s shoulder. A kick knocked her legs out from under her and ended the match. Unlike her previous match, she grinned as she got to her feet. She trotted over to Dai.

“I did it! I got a hit! Thank you, sensei!” She bounded back to her classmates.

Sakumo smiled as he watched the exchange. He had suspected Dai would be good with young children. He recalled how Kakashi had spoken of Guy’s father when he had been younger and he’d liked him, even if he didn’t always understand his passion about youth. Dai had been as supportive and encouraging to Kakashi as he had to Guy even when the boys were competing with one another. Sakumo had always made note of anyone whom Kakashi actually liked. His own experience with the other man had convinced him that Dai was capable of more than he had accomplished thus far.

“He certainly understands the Will of Fire,” the Academy principal commented.

“You sound surprised,” Sakumo said.

“I had my doubts when you first approached me,” he admitted. “I do not pay much heed to the village gossip but…” he trailed off uncomfortably.

“It does not paint a flattering picture of Dai,” Sakumo finished for him. “I believe that our shinobi _expect_ him to fail without ever giving him a proper chance. If he could find a place to utilize his strengths rather than having his weaknesses constantly highlighted and where he was supported rather than dismissed or ridiculed, I believe Dai could do well.”

“You are very wise, Lord Hokage.”

Sakumo snorted. “I am nothing of the sort.”

As the class ended and the instructor rounded up his students, Dai rejoined them. “She called me ‘sensei’,” Dai said, flushed with pride. “I never thought…”

“Then you’re accepting the position?” Sakumo pressed.

Dai nodded, looking slightly uncertain. “But I’ve never taught – “

The principal interrupted him. “There is already a curriculum in place. You need simply follow it. Any of the other Academy instructors will be glad to give you a hand if you run into problems. Come, I will give you the course material so you can look it over. It will be lunch time soon and I can introduce you to some of the other staff then. If you’ll excuse us, Lord Hokage.”

Sakumo motioned for them to go, pleased with how thigs had turned out. Perhaps his new position did have _some_ perks after all.

* * *

The next weeks passed without incident. Nor did anyone see or hear complaint from Danzo. Shinobi involved with the Foundation had begun presenting themselves to Shikaku Nara for evaluation and reassignment. There had been no assassination attempts, no unrest, nothing. It appeared that Danzo was complying with his orders to disband his Foundation without fuss.

Sakumo didn’t trust it.

He did not have time to ponder what Danzo could possibly be up to as there were still any number of other things that demanded his attention as Hokage, ranging from the mundane to pressing matters. The mundane he shamelessly foisted off on Minato as much as his conscience would allow. Which left him to deal with those matters he couldn’t hand off to his advisor.

One such pressing matter was the Uchiha Clan. While Sakumo didn’t have anything against the Uchiha, he knew he was not their favorite person. There were many in the Clan who still opposed Kakashi’s possession of the Sharingan. He’d learned that Fugaku’s name had been put forward for consideration for the Hokage’s seat as well. That he hadn’t even been considered by the Council had rankled the proud Clan who already had a tense relationship with the rest of the Leaf Village, despite being one of the founding Clans.

The First and Second Hokages had been Senju, the other founding Clan. The Third had been a student of theirs. The Uchiha felt a member of their Clan wearing the Hokage’s hat was long overdue. Instead Sakumo, who belonged to a Clan in name only, now held the position. Even at its height, the Hatake Clan had never been large or powerful or influential. Even though it hadn’t been an intentional slight, it was perceived as almost a slap in the face to the large and powerful clan.

Sakumo had learned that there was talk among the Uchiha about rising up against the rest of the village. The details were unknown and it was only rumors. But the tension between the Uchiha and the rest of the Village was unmistakable and resentment had been brewing for a long time; practically since the Hidden Leaf had been founded. He had sent a few shinobi whom he trusted implicitly to try to subtly get a feel for the situation. While he had no reason to distrust the notes that had been left by his predecessor about the situation, he wanted to verify the state of things for himself before making any decisions. The reports were worrying. There was no outright hostility but those he had sent had reported a feeling of tension and unease. This was not something he could ignore. Even if the rumors were false Sakumo felt that easing the long-held tensions and resentments could only be good for everyone.

Sakumo decided to approach the issue the way he did most things in his life: by tackling it head on. To that end, he summoned the head of the Uchiha Clan, Fugaku, to his office.

“You wanted to see me, Lord Fourth?”

“Yes, Lord Fugaku. Please, come in.” Sakumo waved the other man into the office as he set the scroll he had been reading aside. Fugaku stood stiffly in front of the desk. Sakumo didn’t know much about the other beyond what was common knowledge. He’d met him in passing a small handful of times but never worked with him.

“We’re both very busy so I’ll get right to the point,” Sakumo said. “Are the Uchiha planning an uprising against the Village?”

Fugaku couldn’t hide his shock at the Hokage’s blunt question. He took a moment to frame his answer. The man across from him was not to be underestimated. “There has been… dissention… among members of my Clan,” he said carefully. “Ever since the founding of the Hidden Leaf there have been those who do not trust any among the Uchiha, despite us being one of the founding Clans. I suppose Madara’s breaking with the village did not help matters,” he admitted grudgingly.

“I see.” There was nothing in Sakumo’s expression or tone to indicate what he was thinking. He was quiet for a moment, then began slowly, as if weighing his words carefully. “I do not pretend to fully understand the nuances of the tensions between your clan and the rest of the Hidden Leaf. Though I have seen for myself that they exist and things are apparently reaching a breaking point. The last thing I want is for the Hidden Leaf to be plunged into a civil war,” Sakumo stated. “And for that to be avoided things need to change between the Uchiha and the rest of the Village. To that end, I have a couple of proposals for you to consider.

“First, I want to form a council that includes not only that large and prominent Clans but also representation for the smaller clans, the non-clan shinobi and the civilian population. Their purpose will be to discuss issues affecting the entire village. I believe that the non-Clan and civilian population have been underrepresented in our policies for too long. We are a shinobi village, true. But the civilians also play an important role in the economy and support of our village and they deserve to be heard. This council will give them a voice.”

“You intend to replace the current Council?” Fugaku asked. It was a bold move that would certainly be met with resistance from the Village Elders who sat on that Council.

Sakumo shook his head. “No. Perhaps, eventually, this group will naturally come to replace it. This is not the time to redefine the structure of the entire Village leadership. However, I am adding a representative of this council to the Village Council. Ideally this will give everyone a voice. I would like the first representative to the Council to be you. The Uchiha was one of the founding Clans of the Hidden Leaf, along with the Senju. I believe it is fitting for you to be the first delegate for this new Council.

“Secondly,” Sakumo continued before Fugaku could say anything, “the Uchiha were shunted off to their own district years ago. Supposedly in order to make it easier for the Police Force to do their job as it is near the prison. While there may not have been any maliciousness in this decision, realistically it has isolated the Uchiha from the rest of the village. I propose either relocating or opening the District to be more accessible.

“My third proposal ties into my second; since its inception, the Leaf Police Force has been the sole responsibility of the Uchiha. Perhaps it is time for that to change. I would ask you to consider having an open enrollment for the Police Force. In exchange, allow more Uchiha to join the regular shinobi forces. It would mingle your Clan among the Village and show you are willing to defend the Hidden Leaf more than just internally.”

Sakumo gave the other man time to digest his words. He knew he had just thrown a lot at him. He hadn’t seen any point in dragging things out. The problem wasn’t going to go away unless the underlying issues were resolved. In order to resolve them, changes were needed. Best to get them all taken care of in one fell swoop.

“You have given this quite a bit of thought,” Fugaku finally said.

“That there were tensions among the Uchiha and the rest of the village was brought to my attention right after I got stuck in this position. I’ve been trying to come up with something that would be mutually acceptable to everyone involved. Lord Hiruzen told me that he stepped down because he felt that the Hidden Leaf needed to move in a new direction, that change was needed in order for our village to remain strong. He was right.”

“You are proposing some... _significant_ changes,” Fugaku stated dryly. Significant was an understatement. He’d heard a rumor that the Hokage had already challenged Danzo who was certainly not a man to anger lightly. Sakumo Hatake was certainly not afraid to shake things up, he mused. “I cannot simply agree to such sweeping changes. Not without consulting the rest of my Clan as what you propose will have a great impact on them.”

“I would never ask you to simply agree,” Sakumo said. “Take it to your Clan. Think it over. Should you decide against it, I will not force the Uchiha into doing anything they do not wish to do. I am simply hoping to find a way for everyone in the Hidden Leaf to feel included and to live peacefully among ourselves. There are more than enough external threats, I’d prefer not to have internal ones as well.”

Fugaku regarded the Hokage for a long moment. The relationship between this office and the Uchiha had always been strained, ever since Madara and Hashirama’s time. The suspicion with which the Second Hokage had held the Uchiha hadn’t helped matters. Sakumo had no ties to the Senju and was well known to be an honorable and loyal man. That wasn’t something Fugaku could ignore. He believed that Sakumo was truly trying to find a way to bridge the gap that had formed between his Clan and the village. It was more than his predecessors had done. Sakumo had little reason to want to help the Uchiha after the way his son had been treated after inheriting Obito’s Sharingan. Yet he was prepared to make sweeping changes to the village in order to do so. It was certainly worth bringing the matter to his Clan for consideration.

Fugaku inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment and agreement with the Hokage’s words. “Then I shall present your proposals to my Clan and return when we have reached an agreement.”

“That’s fine. Take what time you need. I understand that these decisions are not ones to be made lightly.”

“Indeed not. If there is nothing else, Lord Hokage?”

“You mean that wasn’t enough?” Sakumo deadpanned.

Fugaku let out a soft snort of laughter as he turned to leave the office. The new Hokage was certainly full of surprises. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.


	27. Chapter 27

Kakashi ran between targets, striking each as he streaked by. Splinters exploded around him as his Chidori made short work of the wooden posts. The lightning chakra surrounding his hand faded as he completed his circuit. He reflexively closed his left eye as he came to a halt. He had finally begun honing his control over the Sharingan that Obito had bequeathed him but it would continuously drain his chakra unless the eye was closed or covered. He was already feeling the effects of combining the Sharingan with Chidori. He flexed the fingers of his right hand absently as he surveyed the damage to the training ground with satisfaction.

_You helped me complete and perfect this jutsu, Obito_ , he thought. _A jutsu that will allow me to protect those precious to me so I won’t fail any more of my friends the way I failed you!_

Sensing someone nearby, he turned in the direction of the chakra signature. “Who’s there?” he demanded. The ANBU his father had assigned to guard him had been reassigned a week ago. Sakumo had finally agreed to dismiss the guard when after nearly three months there had been no signs of retaliation from Danzo over the disbanding of his organization. He struggled to hide his surprise as a figure detached itself from the trees, leaning on a cane that Kakashi was certain he didn’t need. “Lord Danzo.”

The Village Elder smiled, putting Kakashi instantly on his guard. He’d never had any direct dealings with Danzo though he knew who he was. He suddenly wished he hadn’t been so insistent to his father that he no longer needed an ANBU guard. There was something dangerous about that seemingly pleasant expression. Since he had first begun his ninja training, Sakumo had told Kakashi to always trust his gut and listen to his instincts. Right now they were saying he was in danger.

“So, you’re Kakashi Hatake, the son of the White Fang, our new Hokage.” Kakashi swore he heard a slight sneer at the title. “I have heard of that new jutsu you created – Chidori, was it? Very impressive.” He glanced around at the splintered targets.

Kakashi waited quietly for Danzo to tell him what he was doing all the way out here. The training field was remote so it was doubtful that the Elder was simply passing by. His father had cautioned him to be careful if he ever had dealings with the man; Danzo was not someone to trust or to take lightly.

“Tell me, Kakashi, how old are you?”

“Thirteen, sir,” Kakashi answered though was certain Danzo already knew the answer. Even he knew that Danzo had eyes and ears everywhere in the Hidden Leaf.

“Thirteen,” Danzo repeated slowly, his gaze sharpening. “Already quite the accomplished shinobi - a jonin no less - at the age many students are just graduating from the Academy. It is a pity that your father ordered my Foundation disbanded. You would have excelled there, I think.”

“Me?” Kakashi didn’t know much about Danzo’s Foundation beyond some vague rumors. Information about the tasks the Foundation carried out were classified at the highest level, even most jonin weren’t privy to such intel. While Sakumo hadn’t said anything about it directly, after witnessing the foul mood his father had been in a few months prior, Kakashi was certain that he didn’t want to become embroiled with it in any way.

“Indeed. I carried out tasks of vital importance to the security and stability of the Hidden Leaf. I required extraordinary people to do so. You, my boy, are extraordinary.”

Kakashi felt his unease growing. Danzo wanted something, of that he was certain. Whatever it was, he suspected it would be in direct conflict with his father. “I’m just a shinobi, sir,” Kakashi said.

Danzo snorted. “There is no need for false humility here, boy. You have the potential to become one of the greatest shinobi this village has ever seen. I dare say even surpassing your father. It is unfortunate that the current Hokage is unable to see the value my Foundation brought to the Hidden Leaf. Our way of life – our very existence – depends on it.”

“What do you want with me?” Kakashi couldn’t keep himself from asking any longer.

“Not a thing. At least, not right now. I simply wish to extend you an offer. When your father realizes that my Foundation is necessary – and he will - I would like you to come work for me. As I said, you are an exceptional shinobi, Kakashi but you are currently walking in your father’s shadow. I can pull you from it and allow your full potential to bloom. You need not give me an answer now,” Danzo continued, seeing the boy about to protest. “Indeed, it would be premature seeing as I currently do not have an organization in which to offer you a place. It is just something to consider for the future.”

Danzo turned and walked away, feeling rather smug as he sensed Kakashi bewildered gaze following him. Sakumo was not someone he could easily depose. He had been popular and well-liked throughout the village even before his rise to the Hokage’s seat. His actions in the months since claiming the hat had made him even more so. Danzo snorted to himself. Sakumo Hatake’s sense of honor and fairness may have endeared him to many but Danzo knew that darkness and a willingness to do dark deeds was needed to keep the Hidden Leaf safe. As a shinobi Sakumo had killed many opponents on the battlefield but he lacked that darkness of heart necessary in Danzo’s line of work. That lack would render him unable to go to the extreme lengths necessary to keep the village safe.

If Danzo couldn’t take on Sakumo directly, he’d employ more subtle means. Kakashi was very much like his father in his intelligence and skill. But he was very unlike him in personality. Sakumo was outgoing, friendly, and surrounded himself with his friends while Kakashi was quiet and often blunt, bordering on rude, and was preferred to be alone. Danzo had kept a loose eye on the younger Hatake since he had graduated the Academy in a single year at only five years old. He kept tabs on anyone who could possibly be of use to him. Danzo saw the potential for the darkness that Sakumo lacked in his son. It simply needed to be nurtured in order to take root and grow.

He could plant the seeds now. He had seen shinobi like Kakashi before, talented and who felt they were being held back by others. Sakumo was a hero of the Hidden Leaf, his name was known and renowned throughout the ninja world. No matter how much Kakashi may idolize and love his father, there had to be a part of him that chaffed at knowing many saw him as the White Fang’s son first and as Kakashi second. Danzo could use that. He would offer Kakashi the chance to be seen for his own skill, not his father’s name. He would subtly and insidiously drive a wedge between father and son until the boy’s loyalty was his.

“You know he’ll most likely go to the Hokage,” the masked figure who materialized at Danzo’s side said.

“I’m counting on it,” Danzo replied. He knew Sakumo would be displeased upon hearing he had spoken with Kakashi. He would warn his son away from Danzo. Kakashi would obey but balk at being treated like a child. He’d remember what Danzo had said and the seeds he’d so carefully laid would begin to take root. It was laughably predictable. That suited Danzo just fine. 

* * *

Sakumo gazed around the conference room he’d had converted to a permanent meeting space for his proposed council. It was a plain, boring room but it was spacious and currently not being used for much. A large oblong table stood in the center of the room, surrounded by unadorned chairs. Sakumo had refused to allow Clan symbols or other markers to adorn the chairs or walls. In this room, everyone would be on equal footing, regardless of station.

The first meeting had gone even better than he had expected. Sakumo had reiterated his purpose and vision for this committee before leaving to allow free discussion. There was some expected resistance to the idea of change, especially from those for whom the current system favored. Though most everyone present had seemed willing to at least listen. Sakumo knew that real change would take time. He was a patient man. The first steps had been taken and with luck would continue.

He had been pleased when Fugaku Uchiha had agreed to be the representative for this new committee to the Village Council. The Uchiha had declined relocating away from their current district but they had agreed to open the enrollment to the Leaf Police Force to include others outside their Clan. There would only be a few spots to start, though that number would increase as new recruits were trained up to the current standards. There was still much work to be done but change was already coming to the Hidden Leaf. Sakumo was optimistic that it would be for the betterment of everyone in the village.

“What do you think you’re doing?” came a cross voice from behind him in the doorway.

Sakumo rolled his eyes then carefully schooled his features into a neutral expression before turning around. He’d been expecting this. “Taking a break from the mountain of paperwork on my desk,” he replied. It wasn’t untrue.

Koharu’s expression darkened. “Don’t play games with me, Sakumo! The Hidden Leaf already has a Council. Why are you creating another?”

“To make certain I am made aware of the concerns of _all_ of our citizens. The civilian population especially has been underrepresented within the village since its founding.”

“The Hidden Leaf is a shinobi village.”

“I’m well aware of that. Yet the village could not survive without the civilian population bringing goods and services. Even among the shinobi the largest and most powerful clans have always held the most sway in the running of the village and shaping our policies. Policies that affect _everyone_ living here. It’s high time for those who did not have the good fortune of being born into one of the ruling clans have a voice as well.”

The Elder looked scandalized. “You cannot simply replace – “

“Why not?” Sakumo countered. “There is no law that states the configuration of the Village Council. Its purpose is to help the Hokage make decisions that are in the best interest of the village. The _entire_ village. Lord Hiruzen wanted change to come to the Hidden Leaf. That is why he stepped down.”

“Change, yes. But not – “

“Not what? Not disrupting the status quo? Not addressing the concerns of _all_ of our citizens? Not allowing most of the power in this village to remain in the hands of the same few for decades?” Sakumo challenged.

“You cannot possibly comprehend --!”

“I comprehend better than you think!” Sakumo snapped, his patience rapidly dwindling. He may respect her but as Hokage he did not answer to the Elder. “I have spent my entire life as a shinobi in service to the Hidden Leaf. I fought in two wars between the Great Shinobi Nations. Shinobi lives are cheap to those who rule, valued only for the number of enemy we can take down with us. That is not what Hashirama Senju or even Madara Uchiha envisioned when they founded the Hidden Leaf. This village was created to protect our children, to allow them to grow up without knowing the horrors of war. We have certainly been falling far short of that goal.”

“For all your skill, you are woefully naïve, Sakumo.”

“Am I? My _son_ has seen war; has been maimed in that war and lost friends in it. Before he was a teenager, before he was even old enough to drink alcohol or kiss a girl. Look me in the eye and tell me that is what the Leaf Village stands for!” He continued, “You need not fret about your position. I am not dissolving the Council as it currently stands. I am merely adding a representative from this group to it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have matters that require my attention.”

Koharu glared at Sakumo’s retreating back. The White Fang may be a genius shinobi but he clearly had no idea how things worked in the running of the village. Hiruzen had been too soft. He didn’t have the stomach for the dark and dirty side of things. That had been the reason he had stepped down. He had wanted a strong leader to replace him. Sakumo may be strong but he was running roughshod over decades of tradition with his sweeping changes. She shook her head in disgust as she left the room for which Sakumo had such grand plans. This latest development needed to be discussed among the Elders. They needed to find a way to reign Sakumo in before he undid everything.

* * *

Sakumo was uneasy.

There was no logical reason for the feeling. The evening had been quiet thus far. The weather was cool and pleasant with no storms threatening. Things were quiet in the Village. There were no major threats at their borders and the other lands were quiet at the moment as well. He was even mostly caught up on the never-ending pile of paperwork that plagued his every waking moment. Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling of foreboding that hung over him.

Kakashi had come to him nearly two weeks ago, telling him about what Danzo had said to him out at the training field. Sakumo hadn’t been happy to learn that Danzo had clearly sought Kakashi out when he was alone and someplace remote. Danzo hadn’t threatened Kakashi or even said anything particularly out of line. The only conclusion Sakumo could draw was that it was a feeble attempt to stir up some sort of trouble. That seemed out of character for Danzo. Sakumo would have expected him to make a bold move or act so subtly that they wouldn’t know what he was up to until it was too late. Minato hadn’t had any more insight into the matter either when he’d run it by him.

As far as the Foundation was concerned, Shikaku Nara had reported no significant issues with integrating Danzo’s shinobi back into the regular forces. The process was still ongoing as properly vetting each former Foundation member took time and the lack of extra personnel to devote full time to the task slowed it down considerably. Danzo had grumbled and spouted some dire warnings about his being necessary to the security of the village but nothing more. Sakumo had even dropped the ANBU guard from Kakashi and Minato seeing as Danzo appeared to be bitterly abiding by his ruling.

Resigning himself to not getting anything more accomplished that evening, Sakumo decided to call it a day. He finished reading the report he had been in the middle of, closed the file, and stood. He stretched the kinks out of his back and headed for the door. Perhaps good workout would clear his head.

* * *

Sakumo was awakened by the sound of someone bursting in his front door. He had rolled out of bed and was reaching for his chakra saber before even consciously registering what the sound was. A masked ANBU appeared in his bedroom doorway. He recognized the mask in the dim moonlight as that of one of his guards.

“Lord Hokage! There’s trouble in the Uchiha District! There are reports of skirmishes turned much more serious. Several people have already been killed.”

“What?!” Sakumo was already in motion. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know any more than that. I thought it more important to report to you –“

“You made the right decision,” Sakumo said. He hurriedly began pulling on his clothes as he issued orders. “Gather the ANBU and get them over there. The medical corps as well. Alert the barrier teams and gate guards – make certain our perimeter is secure and locked down. No one gets in or out of the village until we know what’s happening. Send someone to wake Shikaku Nara and have him get the jonin of the village mobilized. He is to use his best judgement on their deployment unless I issue specific orders otherwise. I’m going to the Uchiha District."

"Understood, Lord Hokage!"

“What’s going on, Dad?” Kakashi had appeared in the doorway, his hair and clothes tousled as the ANBU messenger disappeared.

“Trouble in the Uchiha District,” Sakumo replied as he fastened his flak jacket and secured his tanto to his back. “Get dressed and head over to the Jonin Standby Station and wait for orders. Several jonin live between here and there, wake them on your way.”

As Sakumo headed for the front door, Kakashi went back to his bedroom without argument. At this moment Sakumo was not his father but the Hokage giving him an order.

Sakumo tugged on his sandals and headed out the front door at a near run, pulling his hair back into a pony-tail as he moved. He swore as the hair tie snapped, stinging his finger. It was a tiny, inconsequential thing, yet his unease intensified as if it had been an ill-omen. He increased his pace.


End file.
